


Strange Times

by okoriwadsworth



Series: Strange Times [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), 忍者龍剣伝 | Ninja Gaiden (Video Games)
Genre: Carter Bowen is Prometheus, Dinah Lance was The Black Canary, F/M, Good Ra's Al Ghul, Good Slade Wilson, Laurel Lance is the Black Canary, League of Assassins Laurel Lance, League of Assassins Oliver Queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 32,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okoriwadsworth/pseuds/okoriwadsworth
Summary: The story of what would have happened if Oliver and Laurel had been on the boat together and if the League Of Assassins had picked them up in the first year. AU, obviously. Lauriver and a few other pairings. Part 1 of a Multi-Book series.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen, Nyssa al Ghul & Sara Lance
Series: Strange Times [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809745
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. Changes

Chapter 1: Changes.

It’s difficult to think of them as kids. Yes now, they are superheroes of the first order, co-founders of the Justice League, and the unquestioned first couple of superhero-dom. But before all that, before the Green Arrow and Black Canary became the scourge of criminals from one coast to the other and the heroes treasured by Starling City, that’s really what they were. Kids. This is the story of how they became adults, and then something else, and then finally the heroes they were always meant to be.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

If you had to ask Oliver Jonas Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance what it was that they remember most about the day that changed their lives forever, the temperature would be the first thing. While that might seem odd, try and remember what the kids who were waiting at that dock in Starling City were actually like. Not the mature adults we see now, but kids. Heading to China on the boat of Oliver’s father Robert, the Queen’s Gambit, both as hangers-on for a business meeting in Shanghai and to take a dry run on living together as boyfriend and girlfriend before they returned home, there was a lightness about them that was palpable.

So, with that in mind, it’s not difficult to understand why they’d remember having to wear jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts to the dock, instead of the shorts and tanktops they had thought about.

This trip they were going on, their luggage having already been put on the boat and secured well in advance, was a youthful excursion to the Far East that was intended for fun and a bird’s-eye view of what running an international conglomerate was actually like. It was planned to be an easy vacation. When they got back, Laurel planned to go to Starling City University’s renowned law school to start her path towards becoming a high-powered lawyer. Oliver, meanwhile, planned to come home and continue his responsibility-free life of social climbing until Robert, Laurel, or a combination of the two convinced him to straighten out his act.

But, as we know all too well, plans struggle to keep up with reality.


	2. Sun and Cold

Chapter 2: Sun and Cold.

(Author’s Note: In keeping with the alternate universe conceit of this work, the particle accelerator goes off while Oliver and Laurel are away from Starling City.}

The thing about becoming a hero, of the sort Oliver and Laurel became, is that it usually comes as a direct byproduct of a pain that would break normal men. Superman: Being the last survivor of a planet that exploded. Batman: Watching his parents being murdered in front of him.

It usually goes that when you suffer through something like that, when you experience loss on a level that deep and that profound, you decide to either let it break you into tiny little pieces or you vow to never let anyone feel that pain ever again.

Now while all of this might sound like a tremendously evocative story, you may be wondering: What does this have to do with Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance? Well, you’re about to find out.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Queen’s Gambit was Robert Queen’s baby. Above his company, above the multitude of expensive cars that populated his garage, there was no physical thing that Robert loved more. And he took care of it like it was his most prized possession. Routinely taking it out to test the full power of the engine, polishing it, and making sure everything was up to the highest standards.

And under normal circumstances, there would have been absolutely nothing to worry about. It would just have been a trip to China for business, and then back again, with nothing too out of the ordinary.

But, as everyone is about to discover, absolutely nothing about the entirety of this trip could ever be called normal.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Standing in the main mess of the Queen’s Gambit, watching with some amusement as his son inhales a bowl of Cocoa Krispies, Robert Queen suddenly tenses up as he realizes the other reason he’s taking his boat for this trip, instead of flying. Sitting down next to the son he has grown impatient with, but still loves with his entire heart, Robert Queen smiles and wraps an arm around his son’s shoulders.

“I’ve always let you find your own path”, said Robert, a smile on his face. “But it’s dawning on me now that you might need a push, a little help to become the man your mother and I know you can be.”

“I’ll be fine, Dad. You don’t need to worry about me”, said Oliver Queen, a confident smile on his face as there is absolutely nothing about this conversation that he hasn’t heard before.

“That’s the thing, Oliver. For all of your life, I’ve let you coast. Your intelligence, and your kind heart, has always been hidden behind the frat-boy shell. I worry about what happens if I’m not here to protect you, to watch out for you. So I’m going to, a little bit at a time, cut the leash. When we get to China, I want you to come with me to my meeting. See what I do for a living.”

Confused, Oliver Queen looks at his father. “Why?”

“Because I’m afraid I won’t always be here, Oliver, and I don’t want to worry about what would happen to you when I’m gone. I’ve got enough worries in my life, without adding you.”

Smiling, Oliver shows the depth of himself by putting his cereal in the sink and sitting next to his father.

“Of course, Dad. I’ll do what you need me to do.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As that conversation is going on, Laurel Lance is sitting in one of the fully-furnished berths on the yacht reading a textbook on international law. While her boyfriend, and the obvious love of her life, Oliver Queen is a flighty, but good, man Laurel Lance is headstrong, demanding, and the literal dictionary definition of a Type A personality.

Despite that fact, or perhaps because of it, they love each other intensely and thoroughly, never leaving each other’s sides for too long. And their disparate personalities match up together personally. Few people can get Laurel to relax better than Oliver, either with a well-timed joke or a warm kiss. Conversely, Laurel knows how to make Oliver toe the line, to be the man she believes him to be.

But alone now, her thoughts aren’t on her boyfriend. They’re on her career. While Ollie will be with his father, learning how to run a business, she will be studying international law in the finest law libraries in Shanghai, familiarizing herself with everything she can.

Taking a moment to drink from a glass of green tea near her bed, idly grabbing a handful of flab around her tummy and deciding that perhaps working out when they get back home from Shanghai wouldn’t be the worst thing, Laurel Lance smiles as her dream life flashes in front of her face.

“It’d start off in the Starling City DA’s office”, she thinks idly. “Then a run to the AG of the whole state, then maybe Attorney General under the right administration. Who knows, maybe Federal Judge is where I end up? Dinah Laurel Lance, helping to save the world. Feels about right.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Walking out of the sleeping quarters and heading to see her boyfriend, Laurel Lance holds on to a railing as a thunderstorm moves the boat and quickly runs to see her boyfriend.

“Is everything ok, Oliver?” Laurel asks with the breathless fear of someone who A: is deeply afraid of storms and B: might very well have never been out of control of anything in her life since she was a toddler.

“Everything seems fine, Pretty Bird” said Oliver, his natural bent towards optimism shaken just a bit by the storms outside and the way the boat was shaking (although he’d rather eviscerate himself than tell Laurel that).

And then, as if cued up by some grand director, a lightning bolt hit the Queen’s Gambit at the exact moment a massive explosion was heard and Oliver Queen, Dinah Laurel Lance, and Robert Queen all flew out of the Queen’s Gambit into the waters of the North China Sea. 


	3. Enter Darkness

Chapter 3: Enter Darkness

When last we left our story, Robert Queen, his son Oliver, and Oliver’s girlfriend Dinah Laurel Lance were plunged into the dark and surprisingly cold waters of the North China Sea after Robert’s boat, the Queen’s Gambit, exploded. While everyone in the water believed that the vessel was blown up by a well-timed lightning bolt, the future would reveal an entirely different truth to be the reason behind the boat’s explosion.

But at this moment, none of the three people in the water have any idea, or more to the point any concern, about why their boat just exploded. All they can think about, the only thing that is on their mind, is survival. Pure and simple, living is the only thing that matters at this moment.

And in a tremendous stroke of luck, Oliver Queen was able to grab Laurel and hold onto her just long enough to lever both of them up into a lifeboat floating nearby. Taking deep gulps of the surprisingly cold air, their minds whirring a mile a minute trying to think of what to do next, Oliver glances down and sees his father Robert floating in the water, reaching out for his son’s hand. Grabbing his father Oliver finds strength he didn’t know he had, and deadlifts his father out of the water into the last seat on the boat.

Trying to think Oliver slumps over the side of the boat, exhausted and heartbroken as he watches the remnants of the Queen’s Gambit sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“What are we going to do” whines Oliver, despite his best efforts to keep some amount of bass in his voice. “We’re stuck on a lifeboat in the North China Sea, with whatever food and water we were able to grab. This is bad. This is so bad.”

Lying bonelessly in her boyfriend’s arms, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, Laurel raises her head up and glances around.

“We’ll figure it out, Ollie. We’re both smart enough to. All we have to do is hold on until the morning. There’s got to be an island, or an atoll, or something. We can’t just be nowhere” said Laurel Lance, her hazel eyes scanning the night looking for something.

At that exact moment, Robert Queen levers himself up to a seated position and looks at his son and his girlfriend.

“I need to tell you something, Oliver. If I don’t survive this, and I don’t think I will, I need to tell you this”, said Robert, looking sadder and smaller than his son had ever seen him. “I failed this city, Oliver. I mined its resources to enrich myself, and I put in motion a plan that could ruin the city forever. And if you do nothing else for me, if you accomplish nothing else, I need you to right my wrongs, avenge my sins. If you make it back to Starling City, Oliver, you and Laurel need to fix what I broke. Promise me.”

Not knowing what to say, Oliver nods his head in agreement, followed a second later by Laurel.

“No, Oliver. Don’t nod your head. I need to hear the words. I need to hear you say it” said Robert, brokenly as though he knew his life was ending. “Promise me, Oliver, right here and right now. I need to hear the both of you say the words out loud, or it won’t matter.”

Glancing at his girlfriend, whose tiredness has faded absolutely and been replaced instead by shock, Oliver agrees. “I promise, dad. If I make it back to Starling City, I will fix what you broke. I promise.”

“So will I, Robert. I will help Ollie fix what is broken in Starling City”, promises Laurel.

Smiling happily, if a little groggily as though he just woke up from a hangover, Robert leans back in the boat.

“Good. To help you with that, I’m going to give you this book. In it, Ollie and Laurel, are the names of everyone who helped me break the city. Keep it. Guard it like it was your own life.”

Nodding his head, drinking from a bottle of water, Oliver and Laurel both agree to this only to see Robert put his hands on his son’s knees, looking tenderly up at him with a look of pure regret in his eyes.

“You have to be better than I was, Oliver. No matter where your path takes you, no matter what you become, you have to be the man I couldn’t be.”

And then, from nowhere, Robert Queen pulls a gun and shoots himself in the head, his body falling over the side of the lifeboat into the cold sea below as Oliver and Laurel watch on in shock and horror before, in perfect synchronicity, throwing up over the other side of the boat.

After vomiting, and wiping their mouths with the edges of their loose shirts, Oliver and Laurel exhale and Laurel decides to take control of the situation.

“Ollie, there’s an island near here. I can vaguely see it. If we row harder than we ever have, we can make it to that island. No matter what, if we get to that island, we’ll be one step closer to being fine.”

And so Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance did move towards that island. But as we all know, things got worse than they could have ever imagined once they got on the island. But, in the deepest darkness, they found a light. Even if it seemed like a flashlight in the middle of the late night. 


	4. Meeting New Friends

“The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”

There aren’t that many people alive who can say that they've actually ever been to Lian Yu. It’s not listed on any nautical maps that anyone can find. Truthfully, all you have to do to get there is to either stumble onto it, or happen to know someone who has been there, were able to go through the many terrors and troubles that it presents to you, and survived.

So suffice it to say, the numbers of people who have gone through that hell and come back out the other side aren’t exactly high.

But it didn’t use to be this way, always. There was a time before it became known as the place where Oliver Queen experienced his rebirth and was transformed into the Green Arrow, that it was a military encampment for the Chinese. A place where they kept prisoners deemed too dangerous to be left with the possibility of re-entering private society, something that sent chills through the spines of every high-level intelligence agency that had ever heard of the place.

And because that’s what it used to be, enterprising people who wanted to commit villainy in secret used it as a staging ground. A place to train out of view of the world, knowing the rocky shores and landmine-laden forests would make any serious raid of anything that was going on there functionally impossible.

Into that environment, that entrance into absolute darkness, wandered a spoiled billionaire and his exhausted girlfriend. Untrained in anything, even how to make a punch or pitch a tent, it should have been a short week before they were killed.

And yet, it wasn’t.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Staggering onto Lian Yu after spending a night in the North China Sea with just enough leftover food and water to keep from dying themselves, Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance found a beach and lay down back-first on it and sobbed uncontrollably as the sheer weight of everything and everyone they lost, and the sheer doom of what they believed to await them, finally crashed over them like a tsunami.

Staggering up to their feet, their legs wobbly and their vision still blurry from exhaustion, Oliver and Laurel took a look around and began to panic as it dawned on them that they had absolutely no idea, whatsoever, where to go or even how to survive. Blinking their eyes, they crouched together before opening their eyes to see two people in ornate armor, each with a quiver of arrows on their back, standing in front of Oliver and Laurel respectively.

The man who stood in front of Oliver was tall, packed with muscle visible even through his crimson leather armor and held, in addition to a beautifully polished golden bow, a pair of katana below his quiver of arrows with golden arrowheads. But if Oliver noticed anything about him, it would be his eyes. Cold, challenging, and menacing. And yet, slightly amused.

Laurel’s interlocutor was a woman. That was easy to tell. Her bountiful torso, hidden beneath midnight-black armor, and lush thighs which had bandoliers filled with knives wrapped around them was a hint. But while her bow was equally well-polished, and the arrows having red arrowheads instead of gold, her eyes also seemed cold, challenging, and menacing with the slightest hint of amusement.

Glancing at each other Oliver and Laurel stand up at more or less the same time, and swung wildly towards the two people who had arrows drawn on them only to get hit in the face with the hilt of their bows.

“What should we do with them, Al-Shaytana?” said the man in a thick Australian accent, having loaded an arrow and aimed it at the eye socket of Oliver Queen.

“That is a very easy question, Al-Dhiyb”, said Al-Shaytana, having put her bow back over her shoulder and removed her mask to reveal a Eurasian face with the sort of beauty that you would notice, but that you would not give more than a second glance to. “They showed fight. Even exhausted, clearly hungry and near-death, they chose to fight. There’s only one thing we can do.”

“We teach them all we have learned, so that they can achieve justice themselves” said Al-Shaytana, holstering his own bow as he moves to pick up Oliver Queen, his practiced eyes noticing no serious wounds.

“And when we are done with our other business here, we will take them back to Nanda Parbat and prepare them to join the league, Al-Dhiyb” says Al-Shaytana, picking up Dinah Laurel Lance and carrying her towards a small network of tents off of the beach.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

When next Oliver and Laurel woke up, they woke up to the smell of fresh-cooked food and were handed cool water. Looking around, Oliver and Laurel also noticed everyone was sharpening a weapon, picking bows up from a large crate, or studying a map. And then all of a sudden, their daze left them and they realized where they were, or at least where they thought they were.

“We watched up in a camp of ninjas, Ollie. There’s no other explanation” said Laurel, looking around horrified. “They’re going to kill us, and we’re never going to make it back home.”

“That’s not what is going to happen” said Oliver, confidently. “If they wanted to kill us, they would have done it on the beach. They would have shot us in the chest with arrows, right after we tried to fight back. They want us for something.”

And at that exact moment, Al-Shaytana and Al-Dhiyb walk into the tent, each holding plates piled high with food and thermoses filled with water.

“Hello. My name is Nyssa Al Ghul, but I am known as Al-Shaytana, or the Demoness. This is my associate Al-Dhiyb, or the Wolf, and he was known as Slade Wilson. We each saw you arrive on the beach here, and we made the decision that after we conclude our business, we will take you back with us to our training grounds to determine the answer to a singular question” says Al-Shaytana, as Al-Dhiyb stands impassively alongside her.

“What’s the question” ask Oliver and Laurel together.

“Do you want to return home and provide justice for others?” said Nyssa, a smirk on her face as though she already knows the answer.

Looking at each other, disbelieving that this could actually be their lives now, they nod.

“Yes” says Oliver Queen, levering himself off of the floor to shake hands with Slade Wilson.

“Yes” says Dinah Laurel Lance, doing the same with Nyssa Al-Ghul.

“Good. When our business is concluded, you will return with us. In the meantime, regain your strength.”


	5. A Decision of Humanity

“Sometimes you have to kind of die inside in order to rise from your own ashes and believe in yourself and love yourself to become a new person.”

Even now, even after becoming valued and terribly important members of the Justice League and having moved into a largely advisory capacity, there are things about Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance that remind you that they’re human. Not the apparitions of fear that they were once were for criminals, the bedtime stories told to young wannabe thieves and drug pushers that they better mind their P’s and Q’s lest the Black Canary or the Green Arrow would visit them one day and that would be that. No, if you had to ask their peers, the thing that would be mentioned the most about Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance is how functionally NORMAL they happened to be, a great accomplishment due to the 5 years they spent as the favored students of 2 highly-ranking members of the League of Assassins.

As it turns out, every member of the Justice League has some hobby, something you wouldn’t expect them to be interested in. It made the patrols in the Watchtower, and the time between full League missions and training, slightly more entertaining than people working in silence, or brooding all over the place.

Wonder Woman, for instance, is famous for her love of high fashion and dance, routinely being spotted in the front row at every major fashion week in the world. Rare was the time that she was not out at any public function that required her presence in anything other than the absolute top-of-the-line fashion, which was more often than not custom-made. It is even rumored that, after seeing him dance and being stunned into silence at his complete incompetence, she volunteered her time, at great personal cost to both her wallet and her feet, trained the Flash in every conceivable style of dance for his wedding.

But if we’re being honest, that’s not surprising. One could easily believe that Diana Prince, an ageless Amazonian warrior raised around demi-gods and goddesses on an island untouched by men, would quite easily become besotted with fashion and dance. But there is another thing that happened which no one could have expected.

Diana Prince, the literal personification of unrelenting seriousness and royal bearing, soon found herself obsessed with stand-up comedy. Many a trip in her invisible plane was spent listening to classics of the art form from Lenny Bruce to Dave Chappelle, which would have been hilarious if not for the fact she knew 6 very painful ways to injure anyone with her index finger who would dare mock her. 

Barry Allen, perhaps because he can’t get drunk, became an aficionado of craft beer. He took an entire floor of the Hall of Justice and turned it into a brewery, utilizing Superman and Supergirl as testers half because they could not get drunk themselves, and half because their Kryptonian senses included augmented and highly sensitive taste buds which enabled them to tell him everything from putting rainier cherries into beer was a bad idea to the hops fed by Lazarus Pit water that a League of Assassins contact was able to procure were perhaps the best idea he had ever had.

As far as Oliver and Laurel, well…..

The first sign of them keeping the humanity that the League of Assassins had tried so hard to eliminate from them was something simple, something everyone managed to do.

Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance were masters of sleeping. Anytime they were left alone for longer than 30 seconds, when not on patrol or otherwise occupied, they would be asleep. They could sleep standing up, and did. They could sleep anywhere, at any time, and be awake and fresh in milliseconds.

At first, it was disconcerting. The co-founders of the Justice League, the archetypes for male and female heroism, having some trouble with sleeping was not something anyone was going to be ok with. That is until Batman got consent to test them while they slept. Everyone was shocked when it turned out that Oliver and Laurel’s sleep was of excellent quality. Simply put, they slept better during naps than most people would sleep awake.

After the concern passed, the Justice League did what they do best: help their partners with their hobbies. Superman and the Flash built custom-made beds for them in the Watchtower, beds that would be the envy of the finest hotels in the world.

And then, as time went on, Oliver and Laurel showed other interests.

But, as everyone soon discovered, those interests were a direct byproduct of their time in the League of Assassins.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance ate food and drank water in their tent just off of one of the beaches on Lian Yu, they finally had a moment to themselves to discuss what had happened.

“Are we really considering going back with these people, to god knows where, because my dad said he wanted us to save Starling City? Is that what our lives are now?” said a stunned Oliver Queen, glancing at a quiver of arrows as the depth and breadth of exactly how weird his life has become.

“We did promise your father, Ollie, to save the city if we could ever make it back home. Can you think of a better way to get that done than by being around these people? Besides, we could both use the chance to get in the kind of shape everyone around here is” says Laurel Lance, defaulting to problem-solving.

“Pretty Bird? Are you serious? You want to go back to a lair of a bunch of people who appear to have no problem whatsoever with killing people because you think we need to get in shape?” says Oliver, rolling his eyes. Even here, even in a place that he could tell was someplace he would never go except on a bet or in some sort of dark alternate dimension, he somehow had enough of himself to realize the foolhardiness of that statement.

“It’s not just that. This is a chance to learn how to do the right thing, Ollie, and we’d regret it if we didn’t” said Laurel, standing up straight as though she has made a decision and expects Oliver to follow along.

“You’re right, Pretty Bird. We would. And besides, that Nyssa woman seems interesting” smirks Oliver, already thinking of a threesome.

“Not a chance, Ollie. Not a chance” smirks Laurel, nestling her head in her boyfriend’s chest.

They had absolutely no idea how foolish that statement would be. 


	6. And So Here We Start

“If you live among wolves you have to act like a wolf.”

While Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance sat in a tent and thought, planning how to adapt the new lives they were in, the former Slade Wilson and the current Nyssa Al-Ghul planned for something themselves atop a hill on Lian Yu. As the leaders of the most feared strike team of the League of Assassins, “The Wolf” and “The Demoness” were not people given over to humor or even any forms of expression beyond the occasional steely glare should a target require merely the fear of whichever god they worshipped put into them, rather than the loss of limbs or life itself.

But as The Wolf sharpened his dual katanas with practiced ease, and Nyssa checked the balances of her bow and loaded the heads of several arrows with specialized poisons that would act as slow-acting truth serum, they each could not stop their minds from dwelling on their two guests in the tent at the bottom of the hill.

“Do they remind you of anyone? Because they do for me” said Al-Dhiyb, opening a small crate and pulling out a crimson-and-gold balaclava and slipping that over his face as he puts his katanas in their usual scabbards wrapped around his back before loading bandoliers around his chest with poison-filled throwing darts, and grabbing his bow after a raise of the eyebrow from Nyssa.

“The girl does. The girl reminds me of optimism I have seen in others, her joy for life and her discipline are key to our order. I believe she could be a fair match for Shiva, given enough time and the proper training” calmly states Nyssa, smirking as she instructs Al-Dhiyb to turn around before changing into her league-issued midnight-black armor and immediately reaching into another crate and grabbing knives, hand claws, and a quiver filled with 48 arrows.

“And the boy is unique. I can tell he has the potential for great things, perhaps even to be the foretold one in the prophecies. The last person who made me think this was Al-Saqr, and we all remembered how he turned out” grins Al-Dhiyb, even as the words burn to leave his mouth like swallowing a cupful of acid might.

“That is high praise to compare a neophyte to Ryu Hayabusa, Al-Dhiyb. But if what you see in him is correct, Al-Dhiyb, then we should begin posthaste to see to their training. Furthermore, we should see to it personally with only our most skilled and trusted trainers to assist. After, of course, we are done with this. I assume that will not take any significant time” said Nyssa Al-Ghul, Daughter of the Demon, before she smiled.

Nyssa Al-Ghul’s smile was like the sun on a 25-degree day. Yes, it was bright but it wasn’t warm. It was cold, challenging. There were those who had been lucky enough to survive her smile that explained how it felt. Simply put, it was the smile of someone who knew they could hurt, maim, or kill anyone in front of them, and was in the process of deciding whether or not you had made that list.

And with that smile and a wink to her right-hand Al-Dhiyb, Nyssa Al-Ghul descended on a camp and attacked it with fury and precision. The defenders of it, trained mercenaries to be sure, looked suddenly like sparring partners so quickly were they dispatched. This was a slaughter because it had to be. No one could be left, no witnesses to tell the story of what had happened here.

As they walked through the camp, leaving the arrow-filled and cut-up corpses behind them to be picked up by a retrieval team skilled in such measures, Nyssa could not help but smile as she saw William Fyers, standing in front of his missile launcher with his hands shaking holding up a small Walther PPK pistol against the two demons who had cut through his entire army. As Slade drew his sword, and Nyssa did the same with his bow, Fyers smirked and pulled out his two trump cards.

Or at least what he IMAGINED his two trump cards were.

Namely, in his left hand, the missile launcher detonator. At his feet, a slender Chinese woman who had the PPK pistol next to her head. “Leave us. Let this task finish, and I will not kill the girl” threatens Fyers, his voice dripping with menace.

Rolling her eyes beneath her mask, Nyssa flickers her gaze over to Al-Dhiyb who flickers back at her with an almost-imperceptible eye roll before Nyssa fires an arrow through William Fyers’s left hand, making both the hand and the detonator in it unusable, while the former Slade Wilson grabbed a handful of his poison-filled throwing darts and landed them all in a highly professional tight grouping in the chest.

Smiling, Al-Dhiyb cedes the floor to his partner and equal as he busies himself with untying the woman who immediately hugs him in appreciation.

While Slade takes her away, knowing she’s an innocent and thus is guaranteed to be unharmed, the same cannot be said for William Fyers as the Demoness, Ra’s Al Ghul’s daughter, now has him as the full focus of her rather impressive attention.

“Mr. Fyers, you have been weighed in the balance, and found wanting. Now, I shall send you to your maker.”

And with that, Nyssa draws a single throwing knife and cuts Fyers’s throat before wiping the blood off the blade with a midnight-black cloth she keeps in her pocket for precisely this purpose, walking down the hill as she glances over to Al-Dhiyb with the same smile she had on her face when they raided the camp.

“Now, Mr. Wilson, we begin our works.”


	7. Life And Other Oddities, Pt 1: The Return And What Happened With The Lances

Life and Other Oddities, Pt 1: The Return and What Happened with The Lances

(Author’s Note 1: This is probably the longest chapter. Also, Laurel Lance is going to become the canonical Black Canary, with the fishnets and the bitching rack and the sonic scream, at the end of this chapter. Also, Oliver Queen will look like League of Assassins Al-Sahim. If anyone has any ideas about what I should do with Moira, or Tommy, or Thea, give me some. Because right now, I’m struggling with what to do. I do have a Felicity plan, and it’s…. different.)

(Author’s Note 2: Yes, this Arrow fanfic exists tangentially in the Ninja Gaiden universe, meaning Nyssa Al Ghul helped train Ryu Hayabusa with archery but also that Ryu is an eternal ally of the League, not a member.)

With their business done, Slade Wilson and Nyssa Al-Ghul re-sheathed their weapons and walked back to the tent at the bottom of the hill where Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance were waiting for them. With a nod to two of their lieutenants, Slade and Laurel watched as Oliver and Laurel were knocked out with blows to the head before being carried to the beach and then into a Gulfstream before Slade and Nyssa followed, while the rest of the League did the same on boats. As Nyssa entered the plane, she nodded minutely at her top lieutenant, the trusted Al-Owal, who did the same and the island was left, for good.

Meanwhile, back in Starling City…….

It’s difficult to understand what it must have felt like to be the Lances, or Moira Queen and her daughter Thea, at the exact moment that they first found out that the Queen’s Gambit has crashed, and there were believed to be no survivors. That white-hot fear that must have flown through their entire bodies, followed by deep, soul-crushing sadness at realizing that your family has been torn asunder, and might never be the same. Everyone seeks solace from that in their own way.

For Detective 1st Grade Quentin Lance, solace was found in the investigation. If he could help other people not suffer how he was suffering, let them not feel the pain that he did every waking second, that would be the best thing he could do. Sure, he wanted to just numb himself with it, dull that pain until there was nothing there. But the pain brought clarity, and for him, it helped. It also helped that his wife and his eldest daughter, Sara, were right there with him, suffering through their own pain. As weak as he sometimes felt, as UTTERLY powerless, he couldn’t even imagine letting his family down.

But Detective Lance also knew he had a problem. And one night, after another bust he was SURE was about to be lost in the system, he admitted that problem to himself. Starling City had a dirty cop problem. Everyone who was in the police department knew it, and it made life for those handful of clean ones harder than it ought to be.

He needed to figure out his path, and for him, that meant ensuring that anyone who needed the cops could look to him as a model of what a police officer should be.

For Sara Lance, that solace came with finding a purpose. Freely admitting to being a touch “round-heeled” when Laurel was around, she had a sudden burst of clarity when she awoke the next morning and found herself sleeping in a bed she didn’t recognize, with partners she didn’t recognize. And at that moment, she asked herself one simple question: “Am I honoring my sister by doing this? Am I being the best me that I can?”

Realizing the answer was no, Sara set about finding her purpose. The idea of being a lawyer like Laurel would have been flashed through her mind for a moment, but it left as soon as it came. Sara knew the amount of work it would take to become a lawyer, and knew she didn’t have the kind of patience she needed to do that work.

Besides, if there was one thing Sara liked about herself before this tragedy hit, it was that she enjoyed being…. Physical. And then it came to her. How to honor her sister’s need for justice, while at the same time, feeling like she was helping people receive it at the moment.

Sara Lance was going to become a vigilante. But how would she start, she wondered? I mean, getting in shape was obvious. But her fighting skills were limited to the handful of self-defense classes she took at the vociferous insistence of her father.

And then, as she was walking home from her job as a waitress, she saw it. A bright-red neon sign for a dojo. Walking in, she smiled and saw the sensei.

“Hello. I’d like to learn how to fight” said Sara, a happy smile crossing her face as she saw the beginnings of the way to honor her sister.

“Well, hello. I am glad to help you. My name is Jim Dennis and these are my two assistant trainers, Sandra Woo-San and Ryu Hayabusa. We founded this gym to help people learn how to defend themselves. But I get the sense you need more” said Jim Dennis, an appraising look in his eyes.

“Yes. I lost a family member, and I didn’t handle it well at first. But I know I need to honor her life. She believed in justice and believed the law as the best way to do that. I believe in justice too, but I don’t need the law” said Sara hesitantly, unsure why she was confessing this so quickly.

Glancing over to Sandra and Ryu, Jim Dennis comes to a decision and walks Sara to a back room.

“We will help. Until you are ready, you will train here. Now, we will teach you all we know. But we will not be permissive to you. You will learn to be a warrior, a champion for justice as you would have wished your sister to be. And, we will teach you how to kill.”

“No. Teach me all you know but do not teach me how to kill. I have felt the pain of someone I love being removed from my life, and I do not wish to inflict that pain on anyone ever again” begs Sara, tears threatening to leave her eyes as she imagines having to inflict that pain that has haunted her so thoroughly. 

Back in Nanda Parbat…….

Even decades later, after everything that they did, Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance would admit to thinking the same thing when they first arrived in Nanda Parbat and were placed in front of Ra’s Al Ghul.

He’s exactly like his daughter.

Ra’s carries himself with classical bearing, a kind of detached grace that means he’s never out of place anywhere and is never noticed until he wants you to.

Combine that with the menace he moved with, and the sheer coldness of his eyes, and you get a man who could very easily be a titan of industry or the feared head of a guild of lethal assassins.

“Oliver Jonas Queen. Dinah Laurel Lance” said Ra’s Al Ghul, menace dripping from every syllable. “I understand you swore fealty to our league. Is this correct?”

Glancing at each other in a fear they didn’t know they could feel they each only had one thing to say.

“Yes,” they said in perfect harmony.

“Then rise. In seven days from this day, we will meet here, in this exact spot. If you have proven yourselves worthy, we will discuss what comes next. If you are not proven worthy, we will also discuss what comes next, although I fear that is a conversation that will not be nearly as enjoyable” says Ra’s Al Ghul, fear coursing through the veins of Laurel and Oliver at that ambiguous threat.

But as Oliver and Laurel walked towards their quarters, Oliver and Laurel glanced at each other and vowed, to each other as much to themselves, to prove themselves worthy of their lives.

Seven Days Later……

A new Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance returned to kneel in front of Ra’s Al Ghul after seven days of non-stop training. Gone was their baby-fat, replaced instead by physiques as impressive as they were lethal. Oliver Queen, former hedonistic playboy, was dead.

In his place stood a sculpted warrior, having mastered Sambo, Savate, Muay Thai, Wing Chun, and Kali. But his true skill, the thing that had impressed his teachers, was his skill with a bow and arrow. Few archers, even the league’s best like Nyssa Al-Ghul, found themselves able to keep up with his accuracy and timing. His bow, in fact, became an extension of him.

So, as he kneeled in traditional black League of Assassins armor, his bow was on his back, his quiver loaded with emerald-green arrows.

Laurel Lance, lawyer-in-waiting, was dead right alongside him.

She, for her part, adapted to learning how to fight with the same Joie de Vivre she did for studying law. She soon discovered that, at least for her, her beauty could be used as a distraction, a prybar to leave her quarry distracted long enough to use her fighting abilities to maximum effect. So, in aid of this distraction, she had modified her armor, with the permission of Nyssa Al-Ghul, to aid in this.

On her legs were fishnets of the league’s own creation, tantalizing enough to the eye but also built to guard against blade and bullet attacks. Her upper body sheathed in a corset of the league’s highly durable and blade and bullet-resistant armor which was tight enough to draw attention to her womanly figure, but loose enough to ensure ease of movement.

But lest you thought she was just mere decoration and not a warrior of the highest caliber, her fighting skills were equally as polished. She had become a master of nearly every fighting art the League taught, from traditional American boxing to Muay Thai and Kung Fu. While it could be stated that the League demanded their recruits be polished in all fighting styles, few had taken that to heart as quickly as Laurel Lance.

So, as she kneeled, in her customized armor, she glanced over at Oliver and smiled at him.

For, in a show of uncommon understanding, Ra’s had refused to let them train apart, believing that they could be partners in the same way that Al-Dhiyb and his daughter Nyssa were.

And now, as he prepared to fully indoctrinate these two into his League of Assassins, he thought to himself, and not for the first time, how wise he had been.

Before he could do anything, however, an explosion drew everyone’s attention. Fearing it to be an attack from one of the League’s many enemies, Nyssa and his horseman, Al-Dhiyb, moved to lead Ra’s away. But before they could, something incredible happened.

Screaming in terror and rage, believing they were to die with their work unfinished, Laurel Lance looked around horrified as her scream literally vibrated the walls of Nanda Parbat.

Standing in front of Oliver and Laurel, Ra’s smiled thinly.

“I believe there is more work to be done, and so there shall be” smiled Ra’s.


	8. Life and Other Oddities Pt 2: What happens with the Queens and Felicity Smoak.

“Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.”

Life and Other Oddities Pt 2: What happens with the Queens and Felicity Smoak.

(Author’s Note: My reviews are always open, and so are my messages. Should you feel the need to have me clarify a point, or discuss my head-canons for a particular character, please do so. I am more than happy to discuss this story with anyone.)

There was always a coolness about Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance after their return from Nanda Parbat. Perhaps reserved would be the best way to explain it. Even as they warmly trained new members, there was always the sense that there were stories just for them.

Perhaps it is the sign of just how much faith everyone else had in them that no one ever mentioned it. Batman, a man capable of keeping secrets with the very best of them, would simply nod and tell anyone who asked that “They aren’t my stories to tell. They’re theirs. And if you want to ask, you can. But I don’t need to know”.

Above everything, it was the knowledge that Batman didn’t need to know everything about their past that served as the biggest balm. When the world’s greatest detective declares your past to be a mystery he’s not interested in, no one else really has a claim to ask.

Which, as it turned out, meant no one asked too many questions about who it was that helped the Green Arrow, and the Black Canary.

5+ Years Ago in Starling City……

Moira Queen was a permissive parent. She would admit to this if you asked her. It was one of her great shames, and it was one she quickly corrected with her daughter Thea. While Oliver got away with murder, Thea didn’t. Literally from the day Oliver Queen was believed to have been dead, something snapped in Moira Queen.

Thea Queen would not be so in need of guidance that she would need to travel halfway around the world to find her purpose. On this, Moira Queen was utterly inflexible.

So, she made sure her daughter had more than enough activities to keep her busy, in addition to her schoolwork. Fencing, archery, karate, taekwondo, ballet.

Thea Queen was not, at all, going to be anything like Oliver. Moira Queen would have sworn to that.

And so, she wasn’t. For better or worse. Because while Thea Queen developed the discipline Oliver never had, she also found the simple pleasures of life to be that much harder.

That was, of course, until she discovered the thing that would make her days more enjoyable. It happened, as most things do, somewhat accidentally.

She was getting lunch at Big Belly Burger when someone stole her purse.

As introductions go, it’s kind of an odd one. But chasing down a purse-snatcher was how it happened.

Thea Queen sprinted to get her purse, and then suddenly found herself surrounded by an entire gang. She got her purse back, but that’s not what she remembers about that day.

She remembered seeing a woman, in blue and orange tight leather with an orange domino mask, descend from somewhere and quickly dispatch all 8 of them with a flurry of blows so fast that Thea could barely track what was happening.

She remembers fainting and being picked up over the woman’s shoulder.

And then, because she’ll remember this part until the day she dies, she remembers that woman dragging her to a rooftop and unmasking. She remembers being asked by Sara Lance if she wanted to help save the city and honor Oliver’s memory. Sara Lance, someone who had always looked out for her, was asking for her help.

She didn’t even have to think. “Yes,” said Thea Queen, and on that day, Artemis joined the fight alongside Sara Lance.

5 Years Ago, in Nanda Parbat…….

It was only that Ra’s Al Ghul had seen everything, done half of everything, and had been around since World War I that prevented him from being uncomfortable with what he had just seen. As he walked back to his quarters, nodding at his trusted guards, he knew a conversation with his horseman, Al-Dhiyb, and his daughter Nyssa was coming. He even knew what it was about.

The question was whether or not he could provide the advice, the calm counsel, that they expected him to.

Because, if Ra’s was being honest with himself, he didn’t know how to handle this situation. He had heard of metahumans, obviously. By this point, it would be a clear gap in one’s knowledge if one hadn’t.

And as head of the world’s foremost guild of assassins, people charged with keeping a holy balance between good and evil, few things were a greater sin than being unprepared for every eventuality.

But there is a difference between knowing metahumans exist and having one in your midst.

“What are we to do, your grace,” said Al-Dhiyb, as they walked to Ra’s quarters. “This is not something we ever imagined having to deal with. We had heard of metahumans, but never expected to train one.”

“Should we release them from their vows, father?” said Nyssa. Being unsure of herself, and her next step, was not a thing she enjoyed being.

“We will do no such thing,” said Ra’s, in a voice that clearly indicated the absolute last thing any of them wanted to do was disagree. “We will train her as we train any other new initiate. Am I correct in understanding that she has become as proficient in hand-to-hand combat as Mr. Queen has become with a bow?”

“Yes, your grace,” said Al-Dhiyb, proud of himself for the work he was able to do to get Mr. Queen into fighting shape.

“Then we will treat this new skill of Ms. Lance’s, this scream, as we did Mr. Queen’s bow. We will teach accuracy, we will teach control, and we will let it become as natural to her as Mr. Queen’s bow is to him” said Ra’s.

“Thank you for your instruction, father,” said Nyssa, already looking forward to the practice.

“Now leave me. We have many missions, and soon will be the day when Mr. Queen and Ms. Lance join us” said Ra’s, already planning on when to let his two initiates loose.

Walking back to the training compounds, Nyssa smirks at the former Slade Wilson.

“Mr. Queen does seem to enjoy his bow. Perhaps I should take over his archery training, and allow you to work with Ms. Lance on proper utilization of this new skill” smirks Nyssa, knowing that Slade’s fondness for the katana has not yet passed to his new student.

“Of course. And maybe this time, I’ll have a student who properly respects the katana” grumbles Slade Wilson, drawing another knowing smirk.

Little did they know it, but soon, they would find out how much Laurel Lance respected the katana. 

Back in Starling City….

While Thea Queen was finding stability and a purpose, Felicity Smoak was finishing her 1st day at work. Grabbing her bleeding-edge smartphone and making a delivery order to be delivered to her home the newest employee of the IT department at Queen Consolidated smiled as she imagined her partner waiting for her. Traveling from MIT to Starling City had been hard enough. She didn’t think she could imagine doing it without someone who cared for her.

Smiling, logging out of Queen Consolidated’s intranet, Felicity picked up her phone and made a call.

“Hello?” said Cindy Burke, known to just about everyone in her life as Sin.

“Sin, I need you to be home in 30 minutes. I ordered food, and I need someone to sign for it. Can you do that?” asked Felicity.

“For you, love? Anything” said Sin, smiling as she gets forks, knives, and plates out.

“Good. I’ll see you when you get home” said Sin.

Humming to herself, Felicity Smoak went home to see her girlfriend.

(Author’s Note 2: Please give me a nickname for Sara Lance’s new vigilante. I don’t have one. And it’d be nice to not use too many things that were already in the TV show.)


	9. Life And Other Oddities Pt 3: Induction and Tommy Merlyn

Life And Other Oddities Pt 3: Induction and Tommy Merlyn.

(Author's Note: The next chapter after this one will be a touch spoilery, mainly explaining the differences between the actual Arrowverse and this one. Some you may see coming. Some of them, you may not. Hopefully, you remain interested.)

There are a great many things people know about Oliver Queen. But the one that matters the most is his well-earned reputation for being the world's greatest archer.

And you can't possibly know that without knowing about the trick arrows. You can't possibly tell a story about the Green Arrow without mentioning them. It'd be like telling everyone about Barry Allen without mentioning speed.

At first, Oliver Queen only had one type of arrow: terribly sharp ones. If he was going to go out with just a bow and arrow, every shot was going to be a lethal one. To do what he needed to do, as a member of the League of Assassins, he needed to be comfortable with killing. And he became quite comfortable with it.

However, when he was no longer a member of the League of Assassins and chose to become the Green Arrow, Oliver Queen decided he needed more arrows in his quiver than just ones that were terribly sharp. They literally do everything that an archer could want. At first, they were simple, and their purposes were clearly understood. Why wouldn't a vigilante need a flashbang arrow or one that can fire off a high-powered cable to escape from a building? And, for a while, that was enough.

His regular sharp arrows hurt like hell if you get hit with one by someone who knows what they're doing. And he absolutely, perhaps better than anyone in the world he could think of, knew what he was doing.

But then, something odd happened. He decided to become a hero, to actually look to do good in the world. And right after that, he suddenly discovered the existence of metahumans, people who could do things only imagined in comic books or fever dreams. And then Ryu Hayabusa, his friend and someone he considered to be a brother after their many battles together, told him about the underworld and all the fiendish creatures that could be found there.

So, and not for the first time, Oliver Queen remarked how lucky he was that he happened to be the C.E.O. of a multi-billion-dollar tech conglomerate, with an applied sciences wing that lived at the bleeding edge. Because, as time went on, he discovered that he would need arrows to do everything he could need. And he needed those arrows to be able to do a lot.

A long time ago in Nanda Parbat…..

As Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance walked back into the throne room in Nanda Parbat, looking to again swear their allegiance to him and to the League of Assassins, they idly noticed that every member of the League was there and armed to the teeth. Even if the last time had been an accident, the League was not about to be unprepared for an invasion.

Quicker than they might have imagined, though, Ra's Al Ghul appeared in front of the entire league with a sword in one hand and a fully-loaded quiver of arrows on his back. Clearly, if anything were to happen, the "Demon's Head" was to be absolutely sure that anyone who wanted to try anything would have to go through with him.

"Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance, please kneel," said Ra's, his voice containing all the menace of someone who knows they can kill you anytime they want.

"It is our tradition that when our initiates surrender their past lives, they are allowed to pick the name that represents who they most wish to be. It is in this spirit that I allow you to pick the name that defines you when you become a member of the League" stated Ra's, oily menace dripping off of every consonant and vowel.

"Since I arrived here in Nanda Parbat, your grace, I have felt a kinship with one weapon. It is like an extra limb, and I cannot envision my life without it. In that spirit, your grace, I would like my name to represent that kinship. I would call myself the Arrow" said Oliver, confidence, and strength clear in his voice.

"It shall be done. Your new name is Al-Sahim, the Arrow. As for you, Ms. Lance?" said Ra's.

"When I left to go on the journey that brought me here, I remember seeing my sister Sara before we left. I remember seeing the canary she kept in her cage. It is the last memory I have of them. I would like my name to be the Canary so that I can remind myself of my family. So that I can honor their sacrifice" said Laurel, trying to sound not like she was begging.

"I appreciate your desire, Ms. Lance. And I will grant your wish. Your name is Al-Kanari, or the Canary" said Ra's, before pulling his sword out of the scabbard.

"Al-Sahim, Al-Kanari, your lives are now sworn to the League. Our goals are your goals. Our dreams are your dreams. Is that understood?" said Ra's, challenging his two newest initiates.

"We understand," said Oliver and Laurel together, their minds now completely focused on being the best members of the League that they could be.

Soon, sooner than anyone other than Nyssa Al-Ghul and Al-Dhiyb would have imagined, they would get the chance to prove how good they were. And they were FORMIDABLE.

Meanwhile, in Starling City….

Tommy Merlyn was a mess. A drunken, sex-obsessed, mess.

And to be honest, it was getting tiring.

But while everyone in his orbit was maturing, finding their way out of trouble, Tommy couldn't. He needed something to do, something to keep his boredom at bay.

Because, and this it hurt to admit, his playboy lifestyle was about boredom. He wanted a life, an actual life. White picket fences, the kids, the dog, the whole thing.

And then, one day, it came to him. What was the best way to get an actual life?

Get an actual job. Something that wasn't about sex, or drinking. But an actual, salt-of-the-earth, 9-to-5 job.

Not with his dad, though. He could tell there was something off about his father, and even if there wasn't, the thought of working for his dad was not something he could imagine stomaching.

So what to do, he wondered idly?

And, in situations such as this, there was really one thing to do.

Tommy Merlyn went to the only person he could trust, trust to help him see something he couldn't see himself.

He went to Sara Lance.

Sara had been like a big sister to him, always guiding him through his darkest moments. And in this, he knew he had a treasured friend he would never lie to.

"Sara, I'm stuck," said Tommy, over a meal at Big Belly Burger. "I know I don't want to be the same person I've been since Oliver and Laurel got shipwrecked, but I don't know how to get there. Can you help me?"

"Tommy, you know I'm always here for you," said Sara, a smile on her face as she inhales a cheeseburger and looks at a strawberry milkshake with hunger in her eyes. "If I had to guess, you need something that allows you to be around the people you love, the life you enjoy, while still letting you be stable. Is that right?"

"As always, Sara, you know me better than I know myself. But what would that be?" says Tommy.

"That's easy. Bartender. You get to meet women, be around alcohol and the nightlife, and you get a good steady job all at once. And who knows what comes after that?" smirks Sara, attacking the strawberry milkshake.


	10. Chapter 10

“Take me home, tuck me in  
Moon go down, do it again”

Chapter 10: A Question of The Plan

To all of you who have stuck through the 9 chapters before this one, thank you so much. Thank you more than I can possibly say. It’s been a genuine blast to write this story, and right a few wrongs the show did.

I think, though, that if you’ve made it this far you deserve something. You deserve to know some of the plan for how this is going to go, and what it’s going to look like.

For starters, I am still taking votes via reviews and PM’s on Sara’s vigilante name. I have an idea on what I want to do, but I can always be talked into something else if it’s well-sold.

We are going to have more Arrow-exclusive villains than the show actually did. The basic plot of the thing remains the same, but the players will be different.

On the subject of people dying: Someone will. Maybe more than one someone. But it won’t be just to do it. Every main character death, whether during Al-Sahim and Al-Kanari’s time in the League or when they return to Starling City as Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance, will mean something.

And yes, this is an Arrow-fic where the Ninja Gaiden characters exist. Oliver has met Ryu Hayabusa, Momiji knows Thea, and so on and so forth.

One last thing: Unless I say otherwise, assume everyone I mention in the show who are heroes are fit as hell. It always annoyed me that Willa Holland didn’t really look like she worked out seriously, and yet we’re supposed to believe she’s good enough to fight off multiple LoA members in Season 4. Like, my Black Canary is JACKED.

Thank you for reading so far. Next chapter will be a Laurel Lance thing.


	11. Introducing the Black Canary

Chapter 11: Introducing The Black Canary.

Dinah Laurel Lance loves fully, with her whole heart. Even after 5 years as a member of the world’s most feared sect of hired guns, and then many more years after that as a vigilante and then a superhero, she never lost that capacity for full-throated love. Beyond her superpowered lungs, it may very well be the most impressive thing about her.

Before the Island, Laurel loved the law. She loved studying, loved expanding her mind and debating the finer points of specific cases with anyone who would let her. But above everything else, she loved arguing. About anything. It didn’t much matter.

It became a sort of a dark joke amongst her friends, and family, that the absolute last thing you wanted to do was to disagree with her. You’d spend the rest of your night discovering just how foolish whatever you thought was. But, and this was also to her credit, she never took any disagreement personally. It was purely a chance to test her mental horizons, to expand her brainpower.

And it was that spirit that made her so beloved, so adored. She would argue with you on a topic until all that was left was the gristle, but would then take you out for coffees and enthusiastically ask about your day.

Dinah Laurel Lance wanted to be a lawyer, so she argued in the same way a lawyer would argue. But she was still a young ingenue, so she treated everyone like they were young too.

But that was before the Island.

After Lian Yu, that caring, gleeful, childlike joy burned off a bit at a time. She became tougher, slightly less optimistic, and less trusting.

But she never stopped caring about the people closest to her. It just so happened that those people were expecting her to master roundhouse kicks and perfectly well-timed blows with her trusty tonfas than they were questions about tort law and proper procedure for appeals.

Numerous were the times that after sparring she would be found in the healer’s room, bandaging up cuts and watching carefully as the more experienced healers walked her through the finer points of field medicine. No one expected her to be a world-class medic. No one, except her.

So with whatever free time she had not training, she would be found shadowing the healers and medics that found themselves assisting the League. It was her goal to be world-class in everything that she felt she needed to be.

Soon, while wandering through the many dark corners and shadows of Nanda Parbat, Dinah discovered something else she needed to master. If she had thought about it, she would have realized having it made perfect sense.

After all, most of the targets that the League went after were people of privilege and means. It only made sense that, in order to get close enough to them to do what they needed to, classes on being a proper gentleman or lady were part of the League’s curriculum.

Everything from how to do an expert tango, to the proper placement of silverware at a high-end dinner party, was on offer. And Dinah Laurel Lance sucked it all up. Later on, after she had left the clutches of the league, she would admit to being surprised at how quick she learned everything.

And good too, because there was that other thing.

That’s what she called it when it happened. That other thing. Made it seem less real, if she was being honest with herself.

It was one more break from her old life, and a sudden one.

She had this scream now, this power that she had to harness and control.

At first, it terrified her. To the point where she’d barely speak above a whisper, fearful of a conversation even at a normal volume. Such was her fear, and it was well-founded.

That was, of course, until Nyssa Al-Ghul and Al-Dhiyb decided to take her out to a target range and asked her to see how many of the targets she could knockdown with a scream.

It was at that moment she realized that she could think of this “other thing” a different way. Less like a burden, and more like another weapon. Thinking about it that way was freeing.

And with that thought in the back of her mind, she treated it like a weapon. Even with that, her first time practicing accuracy was an unmitigated disaster.

She hit one target, and it was down to sheer luck that she managed that. Otherwise…. Everything else stood up, and it was only because of Nyssa and Al-Dhiyb’s reinforced League armor that they didn’t end up flying into several of the targets themselves.

The next morning, she went out and did it again. This time, she hit 2.

Day after agonizing day, accompanied by copious amounts of mint tea with lemon, Laurel practiced hitting targets with her scream like Oliver Queen would with his compound bow. And much like her boyfriend, Laurel soon became deadly-accurate with it. Her scream became a part of her.

She loved watching Nyssa smirk every time she hit a target. It was almost like she had a new sister she wanted to impress.

And if she was being honest with herself, it was the time after training she treasured the most. Discussing tactics, previous battles she had led, was the part of their conversations that were expected.

The stuff that wasn’t? That was the stuff Laurel actually treasured.

They became friends. Nyssa talked with Laurel about her life, the dreams she kept to herself about retiring to a small villa in the Greek Islands and taking up life as a regular person. The part that was amusing about this is that Nyssa Al-Ghul, feared assassin, gushed over living in Greece. It turned out that in addition to all of her martial skills, Nyssa considered herself to be a connoisseur of fine dining, and dreamed of running a small Mediterranean restaurant.

And then, one night, her friend and her sister in all but blood walked into her room.

5+ years ago in Nanda Parbat……..

“Tomorrow, Al-Kanari, you go on your 1st mission. You go with Al-Sahim, Al-Dhiyb, and me” said Nyssa, the hint of a smirk on her face. “You will be expected to follow us like our shadows. Prepare your attire now. We leave for our boat in the morning.”

“Our boat?” asks Laurel, anticipation crossing over her face.

“Yes, Al-Kanari. Our target is holding a dinner party on a yacht. He is a drug lord and human trafficker, truly the worst of the worst. But he passes himself off as a respectable businessman, a titan of industry. We will show the world who he truly is” said Nyssa.

“But why us? Surely you can find more experienced members of the league for a mission such as this” said Laurel, nonetheless packing her gear.

“Ra’s has a rule. The first mission of all new trainees is done under the watchful eye of those who have been training them. In addition to that, Ra’s sees you and Al-Sahim as having the potential to do something special. He wants you to learn all of our tactics, and he could think of no better teachers than myself and Al-Dhiyb” said Nyssa, the beginnings of a smile on her face.

And the next day, on their first mission, would be the beginnings of a true assassin. A pair of them actually. And the reverberations from that mission would be felt, can still be felt, today.


	12. Follow Me Into The Jungle

Chapter 12: Follow Me Into The Jungle

As years went by, that 1st mission that Laurel Lance and Oliver Queen went on for the League of Assassins would become infamous. Not just for who it birthed, and the trouble he caused later.

Yes, that 1st mission created, years later, one of the greatest enemies of not only the Green Arrow and the Black Canary, but set in motion the formation of the Justice League itself.

This, after all, was the night that would set in motion Prometheus’s birth. And when he did show up and cut his bloody swath of vengeance through Starling City, it became clear that the alliance between the Green Arrow and his confederates wasn’t going to be enough.

The Flash tried to help, he really did. But upon his arrival, Prometheus wasn’t cowed. Instead, he simply turned his attention to Central City and caused equal amounts of trouble there. So much in fact that Oliver and Barry ended up working together to try and staunch the bleeding, but realized quickly that they simply couldn’t.

Plenty of innocent people died, including people close to Oliver and Barry, before they realized that they needed help from people above their skill level.

And it was that realization that led to Oliver Queen and Barry Allen calling Supergirl for help with the situation, who called her cousin Superman and led to the alliance that would form the Justice League.

But if all we dwelled on about that night was the trouble it caused, the story would be incomplete.

That night, and the person that the Green Arrow and the Black Canary saved and asked for a favor, indirectly led to Artemis (Thea Queen) and the Orange Dragon (Sara Lance) deciding to become vigilantes. Their work alongside the Green Arrow and the Black Canary helped to save not just Starling City, but the world at large, multiple times.

The stories told of that night meant that Lady Shiva and Richard Dragon, two of the finest martial artists the world knew, saw what true heroism was and decided to follow its example. 

If we’re being honest, that night changed the world.

5+ years ago on a yacht just off the coast of Croatia…..

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance walk up the ramp leading to a ballroom that is holding a high-end dinner party, Oliver takes one last glancing look at the instructions left for him on his League of Assassins-issued smartphone.

“Are you nervous, Pretty Bird?” said Oliver, looking impossibly right in a black tuxedo that he seems poured into.

“Not really, Ollie. I’m with someone I love who I know will protect me. And you’re here too” smirked Laurel, looking equally resplendent in a black evening gown cut to accentuate her newly muscular figure. As it turned out, in addition to all of their hand-to-hand training, the League of Assassins believed strongly in strength training.

Many a sparring session was concluded with time in one of the League’s furnished weight rooms, under the watchful eye of Al-Dhiyb. By the time Laurel arrived at a league-affiliated tailor, she looked less like the out-of-shape law student she had been before the Island and more like a high-level martial artist with the muscular development of an Olympic athlete.

“Nyssa and Al-Dhiyb are here too, aren’t they?” smiled Oliver, sharing the same kind of love for their two trainers as Laurel does.

“Yes. I imagine they won’t be required to waltz, or tango, like we will” said Laurel coolly, scanning the room for their target.

“I mean, it’s not like we don’t know how Pretty Bird. That was always my favorite part of going to my family’s dinner parties” smiled Oliver, unable to help himself from being charming.

“Later, Ollie. We’ll talk about all of our fun memories later. Maybe we’ll even make some new ones. But while we’re here, we need to focus on our mission. I shudder to think what Nyssa would do to me if we screwed something up” said Laurel, sitting down at a dinner table with their code names of Jason Sterling and Cynthia Pooler showing them where they should be.

“Al-Dhiyb has mentioned he’s looking forward to seeing how good I am with a katana. I do not want sword practice right after screwing up our 1st mission” smiled Oliver, his smile growing warmer as Al-Dhiyb and Nyssa sit down next to them.

As the two experienced members of the League of Assassins take their seats opposite their still-learning proteges, sliding two duffel bags filled with their weapons underneath their seats, Oliver and Laurel prepare for their meal to come only to be interrupted by a loud argument from another couple. Glancing at each other, Al-Dhiyb finishes a glass of water while Nyssa moves to break the disturbance up.

“You know something, Laurel? We never found out how Al-Dhiyb joined the league. That accent doesn’t sound like Nyssa’s, or any of the other trainers of the League for that matter. Do you think we’ll ever hear that story, Pretty Bird?” states Oliver, a smile on his face as he watches Nyssa walk over to an obviously drunk couple in need of some minor intervention.

“Don’t talk to me, kid. This is my first mission with you and your girlfriend, and I don’t want to screw it up by getting distracted. My story isn’t for now” snarled Al-Dhiyb, his Australian accent getting thicker until he begins to speak in monosyllabic grunts of unarticulate rage.

“Slade, if you don’t calm down, you’re going to blow your cover. And I don’t think you want us to have to fight our way out of here” said Laurel.

As if on cue, the couple Nyssa was trying to deal with turns their anger on the Daughter of the Demon. Rolling his eyes, as his temper goes from a full-on fire to a slow simmer, Al-Dhiyb gets up but not before gesturing for both Oliver and Laurel to properly arm themselves.

“Well, we’re going to be fighting our way out of here, Pretty Bird. You ok with that?” smirked Oliver, loading up a quiver with black-fletched arrows and grabbing dual katanas from the bag before tilting his head at a smirking Al-Dhiyb.

“I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later” said Laurel, grabbing a kusari-gama and a studded Japanese club known as a kanabo from inside her own bag and taking off her high heels for a pair of wooden-heeled weightlifting shoes.

Taking a moment, Oliver and Laurel glance at each other and kiss hungrily before the room is filled to bursting with a combination of Croatian special forces and private security. Standing back-to-back Oliver quickly nocks and fires three arrows directly into the feet of three security guards before taking them out with spinning backfists to the face. Behind him Laurel buries the kanabo into the thigh of a special forces operator, before hitting a corkscrew kick to the face of a security guard.

While all of this is happening, Nyssa removes a dagger from a garter belt inside her dress and throws it perfectly into the hand of a security guard while Al-Dhiyb lands wounding shots with his arrows, having made the decision that these are not people who need to be killed.

In the excitement, however, Oliver fires a killshot arrow that lands directly between the shoulders of one of the dinner guests, a man by the name of Andy Diggle. Watching in horror and increasing rage, his brother John and his wife Lyla nonetheless leave the boat.

But as Nyssa and Al-Dhiyb move towards their two proteges, the glass windows explode out and multiple swarms of ninja in black spider-festooned jumpsuits join the Special Forces and security members in looking at the 4 League members standing in the dining hall.

“Nyssa?” snarled Al-Dhiyb, holding tight on his katana.

“Yes, Slade?” said Nyssa, having nocked an arrow herself.

“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” said Slade, exhaling.

“It looks that way” frowned Nyssa, although it’d be harder to tell if that was due to Slade’s usage of profanity or the sheer mess of a situation they were in.

“Well, Ollie, you heard them. We’re fucked. What do you want to do about it?” said Laurel, holding her kanabo and wrapping the chain of her kusari-gama in her fist.

“That’s easy. We’ll do what they’re going to do. Fight to the last one of us standing” said Oliver Queen confidently, aiming an arrow.

But just when all things looked lost, another ninja leapt through the window and stood alongside the League with an impossibly sharp-looking katana in his hands that appeared to have a glowing eye in its handle.

“Al-Saqr! Oh, this is the best time for us to see you” exclaimed a happy Nyssa Al Ghul, taking a moment to breath.

“I am here for the ninja, Nyssa. But if you don’t mind, it feels like you need my help against more than just them. So I will fight alongside you” said the man known as Al-Saqr, no emotion on his face.

And then, like a flash, Al-Saqr unsheathes his katana and slices through the spider-clad ninja like a hot knife through butter as Nyssa and Al-Dhiyb fire more wounding shots at the security guards and Croatian special forces who have remained.

When the dust clears, all the spider ninja are dead or grievously wounded. Meanwhile, the security guards and highly-trained military men are writhing in pain, but very much alive.

“Thank you Al-Saqr. We are in your debt” said Nyssa.

“Please no. For all you have done for me in the past, consider this one favor of many I may provide you. Is there anything else you might be in need of?” said Ryu, causing Nyssa and Al-Dhiyb to glance at their proteges.

“Yes, Al-Saqr, there is. We are members of the League of Assassins, and their students. But in our past lives, we were residents of a city known as Starling. Our families are still there. And our city is a den of evil. We ask you to watch over them, to help them prepare should they need to be prepared. Can you do this for us?” begged Laurel.

Thinking for a moment, Al-Saqr answers.

“Yes. Yes I can. And my name is not Al-Saqr. My name is Ryu Hayabusa. I am heir to the Dragon Lineage. I will ensure that your families are safe.”


	13. Shrinemaidens and Heavensongs

Chapter 13: Shrinemaidens and Heavensongs.

(Author’s Note: Thank you to RayWritesThings, TheWhiteWolf, and everyone who helped me with this on the Lauriver discord. Updated 8-4-2020: Read the end of the chapter for a change to this story and for the sequel.)

For the heroes of the Justice League who don’t have superpowers, their arsenals remain closely guarded secrets. No one knows the source of Green Arrow’s custom compound bows or Batman’s array of batarangs. This is not because of pride, but for a much more basic reason. If people knew, really knew, who was the armorer behind the weapons of the Green Arrow and his confederates actually was then they’d be in danger. They’ve made enough enemies, lethal ones in most cases, that the people who helped arm them would almost certainly be killed. It also didn’t help prevent the need for secrecy to realize that most of the armorers they relied on were not exactly skilled combatants.

Even Sara Lance, the Orange Dragon, was not immune to the understanding of this simple fact. While she never utilized weapons of any kind, believing her training by Lady Shiva, Richard Dragon, and Ryu Hayabusa made that unnecessary, she still did have an armorer to make her suit. And almost from the moment that she decided to become a hero, she knew she could never tell anyone anything about it. Letting that information flow freely would not be kindness or a selling point for anyone looking for one themselves. Rather, it would be a death sentence.

That was, of course, with one noticeable exception for both combatant and armorer.

And that exception was Thea Queen, the hero known as Artemis. She could tell anyone she wanted about her miniature compound bow. She waxed poetic about its 30-pound draw weight, and how it had been perfectly balanced for her and her alone. She could tell them about her red-fletched arrows, made from Japanese black pine. If she felt like it, she could even say that the bow had been given a name: Heavensong.

This was because the bestower of the bow was Momiji, the sworn guardian of the shrines and holy places of the Hayabusa Village, a small community at the foot of Mount Fuji in Japan. Besides being close friends with the world-feared ninja Ryu Hayabusa, defender of the Dragon Lineage and one of the only people who could call themselves a confederate of the League of Assassins, Momiji was a trained fighter herself.

How did Momiji, a shy maiden trained to carry out all the rites of the Shinto religion in a small Japanese village, end up being introduced and helping to train Thea Queen, someone who is neither shy nor a maiden by any description?

The answer is relatively simple, and down to the transitive property. Sara Lance was trained by Ryu Hayabusa, the current head of the Hayabusa ninja clan. Sara Lance recruited Thea Queen to join her in being a vigilante.

But when Sara and Thea showed up at the gym where she learned how to become a vigilante, right away Ryu Hayabusa saw a problem. And if Ryu saw a problem, he believed himself honor-bound to address it. So he did.

As he explained to Sara while Thea was being put through her paces by Lady Shiva and Richard Dragon, “You and Ms. Queen are not the same. You are robust of figure and we have trained you to be a lioness. Thea Queen, while possessing the heart of a true warrior, is not these things. We have to be willing to train her less like the lioness you are, and more like the person, and the fighter, she can actually be. We have to see who she is, and figure out how best to train her.”

Understanding her mentor’s request, Sara Lance then moves over to the double-end bag as she tries to make sure her hands, elbows, knees, and feet are as fast as she requires them to be.

Finally getting an idea Ryu calls Thea Queen over, taking her away from a good-natured argument with Jim Dennis about why she’s picked her own vigilante nickname and it absolutely HAS to be Artemis.

Standing to his full 5-10 with his arms folded and his face covered by a falcon mask, Thea Queen would admit to being intimidated by the man standing in front of her. But as she glanced over at the woman who had trained her, intimidation was not the emotion on her face. Nowhere close. Rather, if Thea had to guess, what she saw was something closer to interest.

But that guessing had to cease because Ryu Hayabusa was looming in front of her, and Thea got the distinct sense that he was a man who deserved her full attention.

“Ms. Queen, I am under the impression you wish to join Sara Lance in her quest to help save Starling City. While I appreciate that desire, I need to know if it is merely built on wanting to follow Sara as she has been a sister to you. Or, perhaps, if there is another reason” said Ryu, cool and foreboding even as his voice radiates warmth and kindness.

“Ever since I was a little girl, Mr. Hayabusa, I knew I wasn’t like the other girls I went to school with. They didn’t get picked up by drivers. They got picked up by their moms. Their fathers didn’t have them learning the ins and outs of how to be a proper young lady. Mine did.

But I knew something else, Mr. Hayabusa. I knew my city was rotting. But I could never do anything about it, before now. That is why I am so determined to help Sara, and with the resources I have as the heir to the Queen Consolidated empire, we can do more than the cops could ever dream of. Please help us, Mr. Hayabusa. Please!” sobbed Thea, the true depth of her desire to do good finally showing to the heir of the Dragon Lineage.

“I understand, Ms. Queen. And we will respect your wishes. However, we are still in the same position we were in earlier. You are in need of specific training, and until such a time as we can figure out exactly what you need, you will train with us. But before that begins, I am to understand that you have chosen your nickname when you head to the streets to save your city?” intoned Ryu, the very smallest beginnings of a smirk in his voice.

“Yes, Mr. Hayabusa. I would like to be called Artemis. I am an archer of some quality, and I am sure with your training, I will be better” smiled Thea, confident this intimidating man is going to agree with her.

“After your training, Ms. Queen, we shall see. For now, join Sara at the double-end bag. We will start your training there” intoned Ryu, his arms folded.

**Meanwhile In Japan…….**

____________________________________________________________________________

As the sun rises over Mount Fuji, the sounds of the Black Spider Clan starting their morning rituals echo through their small village. Morning prayers accompanied by the sounds of healers putting together potions, arrows hitting bullseyes, and the sound of swords hitting against each other as the new recruits begin practicing their katas.

In the echoes of that sound, however, is something dark and frightening. A desire to commit harm, to shed blood, that would not be found in the training halls of their sworn enemy the Hayabusa Clan’s, or their increasingly-heated rivals the League of Assassins for that matter.

But the ninja of the Black Spider Clan pay that no mind. Their concerns were always more about inflicting evil on the world, and defeating their enemies, than they were with propriety.

In this small village, hidden from prying eyes, anyone who chooses to follow the path of evil is trained, day and night, until their skills are as sharp as humanly possible and as instinctual as breathing.

And chief amongst those who have sworn to follow that path is the menacing man sitting in the house atop the hill, entirely in shadow. His hands, massive and scarred from battle, holding a katana with unimaginable power coursing through it.

No one knows anything about him. Not a word of his name has been uttered by anyone. As far as the world is concerned, he exists only in apparitions and rumors.

As the door to his castle opens, his long-time advisor, Kushimaro, greets him with an exhausted-looking female ninja alongside him.

“Master, we have news from the compound. Apparently, there is a man who has asked for our assistance in avenging a wrong done to him. He is untrained, but carries the look of a truly great warrior” snarled Kushimaro, a thrill coursing through his body as his features slowly extend into a smile as fear-inducing as it is cold.

“Bring him to me. We will see his capacity to learn” growled the man in the shadows, slowly standing up as he grabs his katana and sheathes it before using the weapon as a cane.

Walking into the castle of the leader of the Black Spider Clan, his face covered by shadow, the Clan’s attempted new member looks terrified but determined as the man he is willing to be trained by walks out of the shadows and into the light.

“Hello, sir. My name is Genshin, and I am the leader of the Black Spider Clan. How can we help each other?” said Genshin, signaling for the hood to be removed.

“My name is Malcolm Merlyn, and I wish for the Clan’s help to destroy all of Starling City down to the bedrock” said Malcolm Merlyn.

“I do believe we can do this. Let us begin” smirked Genshin, before instructing Mr. Merlyn to be led out of the castle and down to the village to have his training begun.

**A week later in Starling City**

___________________________________________________________

As Thea Queen starts working on the double-end bag, her petite frame showing the increased muscle mass in her upper body along with the bruises she’s acquired from her hard training, the door to the Dragon’s Gym opens and a small woman dressed in the robes befitting a Shinto shrine-maiden walks in, carrying a baby-blue case and a duffel bag.

“Ms. Queen, this is Momiji, head shrine-maiden of the Hayabusa village and one of the top kunoichi, or female ninja, in the Hayabusa clan. I called her and explained your situation. She has gracefully agreed to help you in your training, and has even provided you with a gift. Treat her instructions as though they are gospel” said Ryu Hayabusa, before walking away to begin working with Sara Lance.

“What’s in the case, Momiji?” said Thea, still showing no signs of shyness.

“This, Ms. Queen, is your bow. It has been custom-made specifically for you, to the height and weight specifications Ryu gave me. It is the bow I use in battle, and I will expect you to be as proficient with it as I am. It is called Heavensong” said Momiji, opening the case and handing it to Thea Queen who touches it and instantly feels it to be a part of herself.

“Let’s get started. I think I have a lot to learn” smiled Thea Queen, as her and Momiji go to begin their training.

(Author's Note: Previously I listed Thea’s draw weight as 40 pounds. This was in error as it should be 30. It will be set at that weight for the rest of the series.)


	14. The Story, The Boat, And The Raid On The Boat

Chapter 14: The Story, The Boat, And The Raid On The Boat.

(Author’s Note: Minor Mistake got made in Chapter 13. Malcolm Merlyn shows up to the Black Spider Clan at the same time he showed up to the League in canon. The explanation will be in this chapter.)

Training is boring. Every hero worth their salt knows this. The adrenaline dump from going out into your city, whether it be Metropolis or Central City, can’t be replicated by hitting a bag, testing your quick-draw speed with your weapons, or even trying to beat your fastest time either on the ground or in the air. But, and this part everyone also understands, dying is not preferred. So, if for no other reason than to keep themselves alive, everyone trains their skills and keeps their weapons sharp.

To keep that boredom at bay, though, they make the drudgery fun. The Flash routinely would go to Central City’s track team and challenge them all to sprints to keep his speed up, which also served as a de-facto intelligence-gathering session for everything from where was the best place to eat to any rumors of anything going on untoward.

Wonder Woman routinely found herself in Crossfit boxes throughout the Mediterranean and South Pacific, pushing herself to the limits of her considerable abilities while still keeping her general connection to the region of the world that most closely held her heart.

The weird thing is that Wonder Woman didn’t have to. She was a demi-goddess gifted with powers that made her a match for Superman, after all. But if you asked her, and quite a few did, it was less that she needed to, and more that she found the idea of not being prepared for any eventuality supremely distasteful. Plus, and this part she admitted to only after about 6 glasses of ouzo dulled her inhibitions, she found herself enjoying the fact that this particular brand of exercise had a lot of people wearing not a lot of clothing while they did it.

Green Arrow and Black Canary, on the other hand, discovered that the best way to train was to enter competitions. So, on more than one occasion, Oliver Queen entered archery competitions under an assumed name and in disguise. He won more of them than he would like and donated all of his winnings to charities that dealt with increasing literacy and STEM proficiency in the Glades.

Black Canary, meanwhile, competed in amateur kickboxing. She found that using her martial arts skills in controlled environments helped her from feeling like all she ever did with them was deliver justice. For her part, she donated her considerable winnings to the Police Athletic League.

But all those years ago, when Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance were members of the League of Assassins, training wasn’t a luxury. It wasn’t something they did for fun or competition’s sake. It was a question of survival, and an absolute necessity.

But lucky for Al-Sahim and Al-Kanari, they had two excellent teachers.

**_Five Years Ago in the Mediterranean Ocean……_ **

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance head onto an open training hall on the League’s boat to continue their sparring sessions with Al-Dhiyb and Nyssa Al-Ghul, they literally find themselves shaking with unreleased adrenaline after going to their 1st mission and nearly losing their lives more or less back-to-back. Grabbing a quiver filled with his familiar emerald green-fletched arrows, Al-Sahim looks confused when one of the new initiates takes it from him and walks it back to his quarters. Raising an eyebrow he nonetheless steels his features as his training requires, not interested in making whatever he is being expected to any harder than it ought to be by showing pique.

“Well, kid, you and your girlfriend over there bungled the fuck out of that mission. You killed some random guy, NOT the guy we were expected to kill. We were conspicuous, and noticeable when we were supposed to be stealthy. And because of that, we could not serve the balance and another team had to find him and take care of him. Everything we wanted to do that night didn’t get done, and that’s because you panicked in the heat of the moment and didn’t keep your head” bellowed Al-Dhiyb, towering over his student.

“But as I think about it, it’s the one thing we didn’t train you for. We taught you everything we could about how to fight, but we didn’t teach you how to read a room and see threats. We didn’t teach you tactics, like stealth or intimidation. In short, your teaching is incomplete. And that is no one’s fault but ours. So grab your girlfriend over there and some coffee. We’re going to start from the beginning” says Al-Dhiyb kindly, as Nyssa Al-Ghul saunters into the room with three of the league’s initiates carrying a blackboard, a small library’s worth of textbooks, and weirdly the collapsible bullseyes and practice dummies that are used back in Nanda Parbat.

“We are going to take this entire boat ride, and sometime after, to make sure your minds are as well-trained as your bodies are. A great assassin knows every inch of every room he is required to enter and knows his target as he knows himself. He knows his likes, his dislikes, where he spends his time” states Nyssa, her barely-there smirk evident in her voice as well as in her face.

Meanwhile, Five Years Ago at the foot of Mount Fuji……

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Malcolm Merlyn was exhausted. No, as the billionaire thought about it, exhausted was an insult to this. Literally from the moment he swore his allegiance to the Black Spider Clan, exhausted was all he had been. He had immediately been placed against experienced ninja and been beaten relentlessly before he could even get a hand up to defend himself. He was then tied up and hung upside down where he was beaten with sticks and whips, before having an impossibly large black spider tattooed on his back.

Then, after a healing process that felt more perfunctory than concerned with increasing his health, he was trained. He was trained with katana, bows and arrows, the hand-and-foot claws that were known as Falcon’s Talons, and just about every single weapon that was in the armory. He also learned about the history of the Clan, and their various cells left sleeping throughout major cities worldwide waiting for just the right moment to be activated. There was even one in Starling City, loaded with ninja trained in all the arts he was being trained in.

But when he was tired like this, he had a motivation that kept him going. It was not, as he imagined it might be when he first arrived here, the love he had for his son Tommy. The tactics of the Black Spider Clan bled the love out of him for anything and anyone a bit at a time, kind of like leeches. All that was left, all that COULD be left, was the appreciation of evil.

Besides, after what he knew he was going to do, he figured Tommy wouldn’t want anyone to know about who his father was.

The motivation was hatred and revenge. Hatred for all the people in the Glades who had stood idly by, doing NOTHING, while the love of his life bled out in their streets. This was a sin none of them, not even the children, could be forgiven for.

But revenge? That wasn’t for the Glades. No, that was for the group that had rejected him. It was for the League of Assassins.

He had wanted to do this the right way, to cull only those who he knew were directly responsible for the sin he was trying to cleanse. But the League, those pollyannas hiding behind a “balance” he could not understand, refused him outright. The second-in-command of their leader, this man named Al-Dhiyb, even informed him that any further standing in his presence would mean his death.

He knew he was going to burn down the Glades to the bedrock. But if, by some great fortune, he could take this Al-Dhiyb with him it would make a good day all the better.

But that would have to wait. For right now, he had a partner to guide through. He had been told what female ninja were called, a word that seemed thick and foreign to his tongue. Despite the idea, given to him by Genshin and Kushimaro, that he was expected to treat this woman as his equal, he couldn’t.

She called herself Cheshire, but that didn’t matter to him. Nothing about her did. For him, she was just a means to an end, a tool that he could use to pry open doors and get their mission finished. And after that was done? Whatever would happen to her was no longer his concern.

**_Back on the Boat……_ **

\-----------------------------------

“And that’s why you have to get your tuxedos and evening gowns made by one of our clothiers. There are always places to hide daggers, Al-Kanari, or flechettes, Al-Sahim” says Nyssa, unzipping her leather jacket and turning it upside down to reveal approximately eight sheathed Chinese butterfly knives which clatter on the floor.

“Let’s take a break everyone,” said Al-Dhiyb, feeling like if he stared at his two charges long enough he could see their overfilled brains literally pour out of their ears. Besides, he figured it was time for them to see him as something other than the bellowing professor on high.

“I know that when we were on that yacht, you wanted to find out how I got here. It’s not exactly a common thing for someone to find themselves in the League of Assassins, much less a high-ranking member who has veto power over new recruits. I mean, before we found you guys, we had to tell this weird guy named Malcolm Merlyn that he couldn’t join the league” stated Al-Dhiyb, who quickly notices the dropped jaws and horrified expressions of his students.

“Let me guess. You know him?” asked Al-Dhiyb protectively, realizing that he saw these two kids as like his own family.

“Know him is an understatement. He’s the father of my best friend, and we’ve known each other since we were kids. Both Laurel and I have known him all of our lives. So to hear that he wanted to do this is, well, jarring” says Oliver, his girlfriend and mission partner still too shocked to speak.

“Did he say what he wanted to do as a member of the League?” asked Laurel, quickly going into lawyer mode but still being careful to not interrogate.

“I am sure you both know, as members of the League, the value we place on not harming innocent people. Even on that yacht, we fired wounding shots on the yacht’s security forces and the navy men who joined us there. They were simply officers sworn to provide justice, no matter how weak we might find it. But not this Merlyn. Apparently, when his wife died, he sought to murder not just those who he knew to be responsible, but the entire city. He believed it to be beyond redemption, beyond saving. We disagreed, and so we parted as enemies. I have reason to believe that he found another guild to help him do what ours would not. If I had to guess, I would imagine he has joined up with the Black Spider Clan. The day will come when we face them in battle, and I look forward to showing this Merlyn the error of his ways” said Al-Dhiyb, his voice and posture giving off reasons why he was called Al-Dhiyb or the Wolf.

At that exact moment, alarms sounded all throughout the boat indicating that they were being confronted by a hostile ship. As Nyssa ran back to join them, tossing Oliver his quiver and compound bow, she simply told Al-Kanari and Al-Sahim one thing: “This is a raid. Kill every man and woman you see who does not wear League armor.”

And so, their orders given and their focus sharpened by a betrayal, Oliver Jonas Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance went to war.

**_On the main deck……_ **

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Al-Dhiyb roared into battle, cutting swaths through the ninja in front of him with the dual katanas that he wore everywhere while behind him Nyssa picked off stragglers with perfectly placed arrow shots or killing blows with her short sword.

“This reminds me of that weekend in Kazakhstan” yells Al-Dhiyb, pulling out his swords from the abdominal cavity of an unlucky ninja.

“Really, Al-Dhiyb? Because this feels like Cebu” responds Nyssa, drilling 4 straight arrow shots into 4 successive ninja.

**_In The Crew Quarters_ **

\--------------------------

Landing hurricane-fast high kicks that knock her opponents out Laurel then opens the door behind her to see Oliver Queen flipping her the kanabo she carried on the yacht in the middle of the Croatian sea in addition to two bandoliers filled with throwing darts, and guards her with arrows as she changes into weightlifting shoes.

“Get dressed faster, Pretty Bird. We’re getting raided” says Al-Sahim, the adrenaline running through his body faster than he can deal with it.

Exhaling loudly, praying what she’s about to do won’t sink the boat, Al-Kanari blinks as she sees a small patrolling group of ninja before screaming loud enough to send them all over the side into the cold Mediterranean ocean.

“We’ll be fine” smirks Al-Kanari, seeing Al-Sahim put his bow back on his back as they made their way through whoever was left.

**_Back On The First Deck….._ **

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Al-Dhiyb and Nyssa were literally wading in blood. Not their own, of course. Never their own. But they had dispatched so many ninja that the entire deck of the League of Assassin’s boat was covered in blood. Exhaling, they looked around and noticed Al-Sahim and Al-Kanari standing alongside them.

“Well, that was…. That was entirely too easy” said Al-Dhiyb, glancing over at Nyssa who gave him a nod in agreement with his assessment.

“Either we’re all that good or this was a test. I vote for test” said Al-Sahim, Al-Kanari nodding her head as Nyssa calls for some members of the League to clean up the blood.

“So what do you think they wanted? And do you think we’ll see them again?” said Nyssa.

“This feels like we were distracted for a purpose. But for right now, let’s return to Nanda Parbat. We need to think this through, and we’re not going to do that right now.”

5 Years Later….

A hobbled Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance walked to a small cemetery in Starling City. They put flowers down on 4 graves, and wondered idly how it had all went wrong.

Blessing the names of Tommy Merlyn, Quentin Lance, Moira Queen, and Slade Wilson, the Green Arrow and Black Canary hugged each other and sobbed in each other’s arms for just a minute. A battle was forming, and they couldn’t be gone from it for too long.


	15. When Enough Is Enough

Chapter 15: When Enough is Enough

**_Five Years Ago, in Nanda Parbat……._ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Ra’s Al Ghul had many skills, most of them generally suited to assassination or the dark arts that might be related to them. He was, for instance, an excellent swordsman, archer, and hand-to-hand fighter. But the skill that he tried the least to use was the one that was in sharp display at this exact moment.

Ra’s Al Ghul was _**PISSED**_. And, at least for his two most trusted lieutenants, he didn’t have to say a word indicating he was. This was because Nyssa Al-Ghul and Al-Dhiyb, the former Slade Wilson, were also _**PISSED**_. None of them had to say anything. Each one of this dark trinity radiated anger from their very souls, like a light that could be felt by anyone who was around them.

So when Al-Sahim and Al-Kanari walked into the main training hall in Nanda Parbat, they could tell that their teachers were angry. In impertinent thoughts they smartly refused to voice out loud, both of them thought that people in the town far away might be able to tell that someone in this impeccably-hidden mountain fortress was angry.

“So, explain it to me again,” said Ra’s calmly, making them all worried as a calm Ra’s was usually the last thing anyone saw before a blade or an arrowhead found its way through their eye socket. “Am I correct in understanding that the Black Spider Clan attempted to board a League vessel in international waters?”

“Yes, your grace,” they all said in unison. Not one of them, trained killers all, wanted to do anything to infuriate a man who could kill them all as easily as normal people might cough.

“And am I to further understand that it was only due to the training of my two horsemen, and their students, that an entire cell of the League was saved from total elimination?” said Ra’s, his calm still intact even as he idly twirls a Persian dagger in his hand.

“Yes, your grace” they again say in unison, trying to keep their concern as to how completely calm Ra’s is being out of their voices.

“This feels to me like a declaration of war. I do not know the reason for their declarations. Someone less temperate, easier to act on rash anger, might want to agree to their request. But wisdom has told me to wait, to properly inform ourselves of our opponents. Instruct the intelligence networks to bring me all the information on this Black Spider Clan” orders Ra’s, causing everyone to scurry to either do as they have been told or to continue their training.

As everyone had long ago learned, trying to be the person who disobeyed an order from Ra’s Al Ghul was a fool’s errand. He could, with the ease of ordering a coffee, kill anyone in this room. They knew it, and so did he. It was that fact that ensured he would never be the sort of person who took disobedience well, or that anyone but the truly crazed would try it. His anger would burn off soon, replaced by focus and a desire to know everything he could in order to figure out the best way to proceed.

His name was Ra’s Al Ghul, and that came with the responsibility to know when enough is enough.

**_Meanwhile, Five Years Ago in Starling City…._ **

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Carter Bowen was pissed, and he wasn’t handling it well.

You see, in the society pages of Starling City, Carter Bowen was a rising star. A doctor of some renown, who had easily stepped into the vacuum left by Oliver Queen for handsome men who seemed to have one supermodel after another on his arm. And, to be honest, he played the part with aplomb. He was charming and funny, and always easy with a joke.

But beneath the polished veneer? Carter Bowen had a different set of skills. You see, unbeknownst to just about everyone, he was a drug dealer. It was the perfect cover. Work in a high-end hospital, where you have access to the sort of bleeding-edge pharmaceuticals, and you make more money than you know what to do with.

So, for a good long time, that was his side hustle. He was a respected doctor, and a regular medical consultant to every TV program filming in the Pacific Northwest. Who could, possibly, suspect that someone that honest actually be creating not just dozens, but THOUSANDS, of addicts?

For one, Detective 1st Grade Quentin Larry Lance did. Ever since the Queen’s Gambit went down, he had sobered up and focused all of his instincts on being the best detective he could be. On this, he took motivation from his daughter.

He never got to see it, but he knew exactly what type of lawyer Laurel would have been if she had graduated from Starling City Law School. She would have found a thread, no matter how small or insignificant, and kept pulling at it until she unraveled every plot any criminal could have had.

So, in her honor, her father would do the same. So, he started cataloging the big problems that the city was having and decided to try and see if he could solve one tendril of them at a time. Nothing ridiculous, like trying to be one detective solving an entire city’s drug problem, but maybe taking one dealer off the street could be a start.

And as he did that, one dealer at a time, he started to notice that the quality of the drugs sent to the lab to be analyzed was increasing. It seemed a weird thing, but he started leaning on those he arrested to find out their suppliers. Eventually, using all of his charm, intimidation, and more threats than he was ok with, Quentin figured out what was going on.

He didn’t bring it to his bosses. That seemed dangerous. Who amongst them were on the take? Instead, he used his gut to find one of the attorneys in the DA’s office who he could be absolutely sure wasn’t on the take. Once that happened, he got his warrant and he moved to arrest Carter Bowen.

In this moment, as his well-laid plans fell apart around him, Carter Bowen was angrier than he had ever been. But the target of that anger wasn’t at himself, no. It wasn’t even at the low-level street dealers selling his product.

Rather, his anger was directed towards Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance. He reasoned, in the sort of logic that only comes from being so angry that you can’t think straight, that if they hadn’t been on that damned boat, Quentin would still be in the bottle and wouldn’t have been clear-headed enough to see what he was doing.

So, as his life fell apart, Carter Bowen vowed revenge. But anger does strange things. Everyone told him he’d think differently in the cold light of day.

The next morning, though? He still vowed revenge.

One day, his anger found a voice, and a name. He was sitting in a bar, raging against all of the people who had “ruined his life”, when a striking Eurasian woman approached him with a strange offer.

“Hello, Mr. Bowen. My name is Talia. How would you like to be capable of avenging every slight that anyone has inflicted upon you? Furthermore, how would you like to rebuild Starling City in your own image?” Talia asks, looking and sounding like someone descended from old wealth and class.

A normal person, one whose mind was not as clouded by anger and vengefulness, would have rejected this offer out of hand. Some strange woman sidles up to you at a bar and invites you to destroy the city you’ve lived in your whole life? That’s not anything you want.

But when you’re so angry you can’t see straight; logic takes a holiday. So, Carter Bowen agrees. And he goes down a path of darkness he will follow to its brutal, bloody end. Because, as he will admit with the last breaths he takes as a free man, he never could tell when enough was enough.

**_Meanwhile, back in Nanda Parbat……._ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------

**_My name is Oliver Queen_**. This sentence used to come before trying to get free drinks at a bar, or preferential seating at a restaurant or nightclub somewhere. The man who said it then was spoiled, and arrogant. He saw himself as a partier, a social climber always in search of the next thrill.

In Nanda Parbat, though, that sentence was delivered for a different reason. It was less a demand for pleasure, and more a reminder of faith. If he didn’t want to go completely insane, Al-Sahim would remind himself that his name is Oliver Queen for as many times as he needed to.

Lord knows he had seen it enough times. There had been plenty who had walked into Nanda Parbat, angry men and women driven by the need to see justice done, and slowly lost themselves to the missions. A bit at a time, they ceased to be people, and became tools instead.

Sadder still because from what he had learned of Ra’s, this would never be what he wanted for any of them. The League of Assassins was never about unthinking automatons. The truth was that becoming an assassin, a bringer of justice to those who committed crimes of the sort that drew their attention, required you to think, to remember the joy of life.

So, and he did this with Al-Kanari too, he reminded himself day and night that he was Oliver Queen. He kept little trinkets from home, pictures of his mother and sister Thea. On missions, he would buy things that he thought they might want.

He said it, most often, when he was struck with the realization that he was doing something the old him would never have done. Like right now, for instance.

“My name is Oliver Queen, and I am reading 12th century Japanese fiction to try and figure out if we can ascertain the code names of the cream of the crop of the Black Spider Clan” he said disbelievingly to himself.

And then, all of a sudden, Nyssa Al-Ghul appeared behind him like a ghost coming through the mist.

“Nyssa!” he stated, startled despite all the training he had already received on sensing when people were in the room.

“Mr. Queen, I did knock” said Nyssa amusedly, sounding like an infinitely more lethal version of that nanny in the last movie Thea and him had watched together before he left on the Queen’s Gambit. What was it called? Oh yes, Nanny McPhee. 

“Wait. You called me Mr. Queen. Not Al-Sahim. Is there a reason for this?” said Oliver worriedly, thinking that this would be where his head would be removed from his body.

“Yes, Mr. Queen. I am calling you this because I have heard what you have been trying to do, to keep yourself from becoming something you will not recognize. I approve of this, and I will suggest that we make it part of the training for all new initiates. We need not become monsters to fight them. Now, back to your work Mr. Queen” says Nyssa, and with that she eases her way out of the room.

Well, he thought to himself, that was different. But perhaps, Oliver Queen still had some value here. Because, it sounded like to him, Nyssa Al-Ghul had figured out when enough was enough.


	16. Creeping Death

Chapter 16: Creeping Death.

There are many misconceptions about the League of Assassins. Some of them are valuable enough that they are not disproven. For instance, the notion that their work is done only in the Asian and American continents. As it turns out, every country, from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe, has a League safehouse and cell waiting for their moment to be activated should such a thing be needed. There is even a team capable of carrying out missions in Antarctica should the need arise. (Not living in Antarctica, of course. Ra’s Al Ghul is many things, but a man given to thinking of his members as tools instead of people is not one of them.) This rumor that no League assets could catch someone running, for example, a child safety ring in Kyrgyzstan or Equatorial Guinea helped to make them seem like actual phantoms.

Others, though, require actual invalidating. For instance, the idea that there is no honor, no overarching moral code, to what the League does. THIS could not be further from the truth. It has been long stated, and even written in the ancient tomes regarding its construction, that any League member that refuses to assist anyone in times of great unnatural tragedy can consider their membership, and their life, forfeit. As the decades passed, and the definition of what was great unnatural tragedy changed, the rule did not. As far back as the shelling of London during World War II, one can find League members using their skills to find and bring to justice enemy sleeper cells, repurposing safehouses into bomb shelters, and generally serving the balance through non-violent means.

That, as it happened, led perfectly to the 2nd rule that had been written down since the league’s formation. No law enforcement officer was to be interfered with unless absolutely necessary. Police were doing their best to provide justice, weak as it could sometimes be, and as such they were treated as fellow travelers. And, if you were foolish enough to harm the lives of the family of a fellow traveler, the great plagues of Egypt would seem like a minor inconvenience by the time the League was done with you.

**_5 Years ago, on the Korean peninsula……_ **

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Talia Al Ghul was not, by both nature and nurture, what anyone would call a warm or even emotional person. She saw all human interaction as moves on a chessboard, and people merely as the pieces to be moved and guided until they found the place where she needed them to be.

But if she was capable of emotions, of caring and empathy, she would admit to having some amount of pride in her latest student. After all, this Carter Bowen was a doctor. He had been trained for years in where to deliver the perfect cut for maximum blood loss, and minimal pain. It was really not that hard of a thing to teach him how to use those specific talents in the service of avenging his slights, even if those slights happened to be wholly self-inflicted.

But, even despite this pride at his improvement, she did worry. It was the type of worrying that was less about the welfare of her students, because to be honest, the safety of those who fell under her tutelage was lower on her list of concerns than where she parked her car. Considering Talia Al Ghul had never driven a car a day in her entire life, this should give you some idea of where she placed that particular problem.

Nonetheless, her big worry with her new archer was that he seemed focused on revenge against a small subset of people rather than sharing her goal of breaking the League of Assassins. This, if she couldn’t somehow get him moving in the same direction as her, could be a problem.

So, after much deliberation, she decided to let him slake his urges for vengeance. Talia knew the rules of the League, and knew that what Carter Bowen was planning would drag their attention to Starling City. They would be forced to respond, and to do so with overwhelming force. That, of course, would bring them right into her crosshairs. And her father, and traitorous sister, would never see the trap closed around them until it was too late.

**_A Few Weeks Later, in Starling City_ **

\-----------------------------------------------------------

There was a time, Dinah Lance thought idly as she stirred a wooden spoon in a large pot of homemade beef Bolognese, where this would never have happened. In the 70’s, when she helped to keep Starling City’s women and children safe from any criminal who dared to inflict pain on them, she never imagined being someone who could enjoy cooking. All of her life, every inch and ounce of it, was about training to be the best that she could be. But then, as tends to happen, real life interfered and did so with a tremendous amount of force.

First, she fell in love. Even now, decades after it happened, she remembered how they met like it was yesterday. She had helped to break up a drug ring on the west side of town, and stumbled into a handsome-looking beat cop who took one look at her before realizing that he was standing in front of the Canary. Despite himself, Quentin Larry Lance did the only thing any man in the 70’s could have done. He asked her out.

And then, they went on one date, and another, and another. Soon she told him her secret, and then they were married. On her wedding day, she promised to give it up. To stop being the vigilante she had been, because she had found something just as important.

And then she had her two daughters, Sara and Laurel, and she knew she made the right decision. But she wanted to pass on her lessons, the things she knew she could never give up. How to do it, though, without letting them in on what she used to be was an open question.

After talking about it with Quentin, though, she came up with what she thought was a solution. First, she’d take a job as a law professor. After all, she had kept up with her education after having taken classes at Starling City University’s world-class law program. That way, her daughters could see the value in understanding what you could and could not do under the law.

Then, Quentin would sign them up for self-defense classes. Lord knows, in this city, you needed to know everything you could. The concept of training with them, keeping up her skills just in case the unthinkable happened and she needed to go back into action, didn’t have the appeal it once did.

But then, just a week ago, it became something that needed to have appeal. Her youngest daughter, Sara, told her she was the Orange Dragon. In an instant, everything made sense. The funny way she walked and how much more food she was consuming wasn’t about her possibly having become in the family way, but instead one of the side effects of heroism that she remembered from her own past life.

Then, Sara explained breathlessly, she had heard rumors that Carter Bowen was training to try and kill her husband and it would be in her best interests if she was trained to defend herself.

That meant, of course, she had to tell her youngest daughter that she was once a vigilante. Surprisingly, and hearteningly, Sara didn’t mind. She was actually happy.

Over the days after, she got back into training. Sara’s teachers taught her new forms of martial arts she had never heard of, primarily focusing on kickboxing from everywhere around the world. Apparently, and she had never thought of this, she and her daughter had the exact body type for all forms of kickboxing to be their primary hand-to-hand combat choice.

And tonight, she was going to tell Quentin everything. They had wanted to keep the secret from him, because they weren’t sure how he’d take it. So they made his favorite meal, beef Bolognese over ziti, and hoped that would be enough.

**_Meanwhile, in a car on the Easley Bridge….._ **

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Detective First Grade Quentin Lance was waiting eagerly to get home. His wife, the woman he had loved ever since he first met her as a beat cop in the 1970’s, told him she had something she wanted to talk with him about.

He hoped it was that they had found Laurel alive somewhere, that his baby girl could be back with the rest of his family. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t much mind the idea of her wanting to be with Oliver Queen either. Sure, he’d always play the part of disapproving father. Seeing how many different ways he could try and convince Queen that he had a .44-caliber bullet with his name on it if he ever screwed around on Laurel made the days of doing paperwork on his kitchen table a little less like drudgery.

But also, and this is something he would admit to Dinah tonight, he knew Oliver was the best thing that could have EVER happened to Laurel. At her best, she was a little tightly wound, a little too over-competitive. Queen, though? He knew how to make her relax.

What did Dinah want, though? That question kept nagging at him. So he was thinking about it as he was stuck in traffic on the bridge.

As he was lost in thought, though, Quentin Lance never saw the archer on the top of the bridge. He never noticed the man nock an explosive-tipped arrow into a compound bow, and aim it at his car’s gas tank.   
The last thought he had was how much he was looking forward to seeing his family.

BOOM! Quentin Lance died painlessly. The explosion knocked him unconscious and he died instantly.

On the top of the bridge, covered in shadow, Carter Bowen smiled. He had got what he wanted. Now, to leave and help his teacher get what **she** wanted.

**_A few hours later……_ **

**_\------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

Dinah Lance was worried. More to the point she was terrified. If Quentin had to be late, whether it was trial prep he had forgotten about or some paperwork for his closed cases took too long, he always called. He usually would offer to bring home pizza, or use one of the delivery services available to make sure that she ate until he could get home.

This, though? This felt wrong.

So, despite her own fear, she waited for the doorbell to ring.

But before that could happen, her back door opened up and her daughter Sara, Thea Queen, and one of Sara’s teachers walked into the room. And in Sara’s eyes, Dinah saw it all. She knew.

Quentin Lance was dead. Someone had murdered him. No, scratch that. Carter Bowen had murdered him. It was now time for the Canary to rise from her ashes, and scream and cry until everyone knew what had been done.


	17. War All The Time

Chapter 17: War All The Time

The greatest battles in history have names. Waterloo, The Battle of Huai-Hai, and the Battle of the Bulge are just a few that come to mind.

But the battles of superheroes have names too, not just those of governmentally-assembled armories. And in all those battles, all of those struggles fought between the forces of good and those who would seek to do the world harm, none was as bloody, and as violent, as the battle of the Glades between the Black Spider Clan and the League of Assassins. This was the battle that destroyed the Undertaking, allowed a fully-formed Prometheus to prosper and wait in silence for his true vengeance to arrive, and was the final step for the League from mysterious arbiters of justice to truly heroic warriors.

For those who study such things, this was the battle that gave the world the first bits of the Green Arrow and the Black Canary, even before their names were public. Considering what it cost them, what the Battle of the Glades took, it’s truly a miracle they came back and did anything like it ever again.

**_Five Years Ago, in Nanda Parbat…._ **

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laurel Lance was exhausted. Bone-deep, utter exhaustion. It had been a long day of sparring, after all. With the Black Spider Clan’s next ploy still something of an open question, Ra’s Al Ghul had directed every combat-trained member of his League to spar, in order to ensure that were they raided the line could be held.

As for the rest of the League, the intelligence divisions were utilizing their whisper networks, as well as combing over ancient tomes, to try and see what could be learned about the ancient order who had declared war on them. The healers of the League were having private planes loaded with top-of-the-line medical equipment flown in. In every way that it could be, what the League was facing is an all-hands-on-deck situation.

So, with that in mind, to say Laurel Lance was tired both physically and mentally seems like a particularly egregious understatement. After all, she had spent all of the morning sparring with wave after wave of trainees, throwing kicks and forearms in addition to delivering knockout blows with her trusty clubs. Those unlucky who managed to get past and under those blows found themselves knocked into the clay walls of the training area courtesy of Al-Kanari’s scream, or “canary cry” as she was thinking of it. All of this because a ninja group that no one could get any serious information on was preparing an attack no one knew about; on a target no one could discover. This was intensely frustrating, and everyone at the level Al-Kanari was knew it.

So, because it had long been understood that a frustrated and tired warrior was a distracted one, Ra’s allowed his elite guard breaks to consume food, and rest. But before she did that, Al-Kanari went to the hall next to her and retrieved her boyfriend Al-Sahim from the archery room where he had busied himself on both mastering the art and going over new arrowheads given to him by the armorers. Explosive tips, ones loaded with the League’s proprietary truth serum, and even rumors of arrows that could plunge an entire building into darkness simply by firing it at a fuse box were circulating, and if anyone could have them, it would be Al-Sahim.

“Al-Sahim? Are you quite finished? Breakfast is waiting for us. I am sure it’s shakshuka, and I know how much you love that. Also, the League’s chefs want to discuss some of the things you brought from our trip to Myanmar” Al-Kanari says, putting unused arrows into a nearby bucket to be returned to his room.

“Laurel? You know what your name is, right? Your name is Dinah Laurel Lance, like my name is Oliver Queen. Ra’s has given us permission to remind ourselves of who we are, who we have always been” he begged, not wanting the woman he loved more than life itself to have lost herself to the madness that he had seen so many members of the League become victims to.

“Ollie? This is real? We can be ourselves?” she giggled, and upon seeing an affirming nod, jumped into her boyfriend’s arms. Their life was weirder than she had imagined it. They had become assassins, with more kills under their belt than they would EVER talk about except to themselves, but their core identities remained the same. They were still Ollie and Laurel, and no matter what they did, that would never change.

**_Meanwhile, at the Black Spider Clan Headquarters in Osaka……_ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The person who was behind the mask of Cheshire never talked, never spoke. All of her time was spent training, or reading. And her teachers had grown used to that fact, and didn’t engage her in conversation. The few male ninja who did try to ask her out, or otherwise make any serious attempt to experience her charms, soon learned that the attempt came with a very painful price. Contusions, broken bones, and concussions: Those were the things that came with trying to flirt with Cheshire.

So over time, all of the talk that had to happen was about their new missions. No one knew her past, or the woman she had been before her life fell apart. And that was, as she imagined, perhaps a good thing. If no one knew, no one could feel pity for what had happened.

And in those cold nights when she couldn’t help but cry over what happened, what she had lost, those tears weren’t just about sadness. They were angry tears too.

In those moments, Mei Gulong remembered. She remembered her sister Shado coming home from that damnable island Lian Yu, and waxing poetic about the man and woman who saved her. She remembered hearing that her father was dead, and that those who had saved her sister couldn’t, or didn’t, save him.

And then she remembered the drinking, the constant drinking, her sister fell into right after. She got angry, angrier than she had ever been, and it didn’t stop. Honestly, if that’s all it had been, Mei would have probably gotten her sister help, brought her back to the woman she had been. It would have never been the same. There would have always been a hole, a thing they knew was missing, but they would have grown to live with it.

But the drinking wasn’t all that there was. She started to sleep around, to get into fights, to not be the daughter their father had given up his life to protect. And one night, Shado didn’t come home. The police in Hong Kong told her what had happened, how Shado had been found in an alleyway unconscious with a needle in her arm.

And so, in that moment as she buried the only family she had left, Mei Gulong swore vengeance. But not on the man who captured her, because she knew he was dead. In one of her rare moments of lucidity, that was something Shado had reveled in.

Instead, she swore her revenge against those who had “rescued” her sister only to leave her to her own trauma and pain. The day would come when they would feel her wrath, and when they did, she’d do something she hadn’t been able to do for years now.

She’d laugh.

**_Meanwhile, in Starling City………_ **

\-------------------------------------------------------

At the Richard Diaz and Sandra Wu-San School of Fighting Arts, there were no students. Honestly, though, that’s not altogether true. The truer statement would be that there were no **_PAYING_** students in the school at the moment.

You see, to become a member of this school, you could just walk off the street and join. But you’d get the bare-bones curriculum, enough to defend yourself against a mugger or a purse-snatcher. To get the full depth and breadth of what they could offer, though, you had to be sought out. Or, in the case of the three people standing in the middle of the practice mats, have a desire for justice that is so powerful it’s almost palpable.

So here they all stood, 5 people fully intending on waging war against a force that they **_HOPED_** they were ready for. The people standing in the middle of the mats were, in no particular order, a rookie vigilante who had up to now mastered stopping muggings and petty crimes, a young but determined archer, and a great vigilante who was decades out of practice. If you were looking at this dispassionately, the odds would be rather grim.

But what passion tells you, sometimes, is the truth. Because those three people were the daughter of a murdered police officer, the sister in all but blood of that daughter, and the wife of a murdered police officer. They were GOING to wage unholy war on whoever it was that committed this grievous insult, and there would be nothing that could stop them.

And honestly, Richard Diaz and Sandra Wu-San understood it. They had met Detective Quentin Lance a few times, usually when he dropped Sara or Thea off for training. He was a kind man, if a little gruff, and it was very easy to tell just how much he loved his daughter. And for taking someone like this from his family, someone whose only crime was chasing justice to the ends of the earth, they would pay him a proper memorial. That wouldn’t, **_COULDN’T_** , just be celebrating his life. To properly honor the man he had been, they all could do only one thing. They could, right here and right now, swear to bring his killer to justice.

But before they did, the door to the school opened widely and in walked the 6th member of this confederation. Ryu Hayabusa had returned, and he brought news with him.

“I have informed our friends in Nanda Parbat of what has been done here, the sin that has been committed” Ryu said, his clear calm voice and regal posture reminding everyone that he is the prince of a truly great dynastic lineage.

“Here’s one thing I don’t understand. Anyone in this city who showed the kind of skill that the person who killed Detective Lance has with a bow would have to know what would happen if they did that, right? Like archery of that level isn’t just something you learn from watching Hunger Games movies” stated Thea, idly twirling her Heavensong bow in her hand as she knows exactly how much work it took to get her to a place where she was skilled in the art herself.

“That is not our primary concern at the moment. The League of Assassins is coming to Starling City in one month’s time, to ensure that justice is properly meted out for whoever it was that committed this injustice. And when they arrive, they have asked for my help in the investigation” said Ryu, opening up a velvet-lined bag filled with swords, shuriken, and two quivers of 36 arrows apiece.

“The League of Assassins?” said Dinah Drake-Lance, finally beginning to realize what she’s gotten thrown into.

“Ms. Drake, I have traveled the world defending my lineage from enemies since I was old enough to know what my lineage **_WAS_**. I have known no greater ally in that quest than the League of Assassins. They may sound like a association of murderers, but they are not. Honestly, they are holy monks sworn to keep the balance between good and evil” stated Ryu, drawing a nod from both Richard Diaz and Sandra Wu-San as that is how they have always understood it as well.

“But that is not all. They have also sought to bestow upon you, Thea Queen and Sara Lance, a gift. When the League arrives, they will bring their best to investigate and bring to justice. There are 4 highly-skilled investigators, men and women trained in stealth, tactics, and intimidation. I have been given permission to tell you their names. Nyssa Raatko, Slade Wilson, and….. Oliver Jonas Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance.”


	18. The Curtain Begins To Rise

Chapter 18: The Curtain Begins to Rise

**_Present Day…._ **

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Even now, despite everything that they’ve seen and done, Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance remain the most amused by the whole Green Lantern Corps thing. They’ve never been able to wrap their head around the idea. But and this is a testament to their kindness and good humor about the whole thing, they also supposed that the person they knew who ended up joining the Green Lantern Corps, and getting a power ring, was the right person. No one had more integrity, or honor, than him.

They knew this before they even met him. After all, Sara Lance and Thea Queen waxed poetic about the things that John Diggle had done for them. It all started in the leadup to the Battle of the Glades.

**_Five Years Ago, in Starling City at the Richard Diaz and Sandra Wu-San School of Fighting Arts……_ **

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After being told that their sister, daughter, and brother were all coming back to them, Dinah Drake-Lance, Thea Queen, and Sara Lance were all stunned into complete silence. Now you could have heard a pin drop, everyone was so completely shellshocked by what they had just heard.

They weren’t dead, like they had feared. They had somehow survived and been found by an ancient order of holy monks sworn to provide justice beyond the reach of traditional law enforcement. Honestly, saying it in their inner monologues didn’t make it any easier. The three people here who were the most affected by this “gift” weren’t celebrating. They weren’t weeping either. All that they were doing was just…. Standing there.

As their shock faded, though, Thea Queen was the first one who immediately saw the dark side to the shining gift that they had just bestowed upon them.

“If they’re showing up, sensei Hayabusa, that means the war is imminent. The die is cast” She said confidently, although every sentence of that truth felt like acid leaving her mouth. “The police aren’t qualified to stop it. But maybe, if we amass every resource we’ve got, we can hold it off long enough for my brother, Sara’s sister, and the people who trained them to do what they were apparently sworn to do.”

“And what’s that?” said a worried Dinah Drake, her years as a cop’s wife and a vigilante meaning her investigative instincts saw the same thing Thea’s did. “Because I’ve never heard of this League of Assassins until right now.”

“Ms. Drake, and this goes for all of you, I will tell you their story. Since the days of Charlemagne, there has been a group that existed to provide justice when the governments of the world could not provide it themselves. They swore themselves to a solemn task: Harm no innocents and ensure that only those who are worthy of harm receive it. And since their formation, they have held tight to that goal. These are people, trained since birth in the deadly arts, who have sworn their lives to achieve perfection with the bow and the blade. That is who they are” said Ryu Hayabusa, foreboding and dark promise dripping off every syllable.

“So, we help them. That’s not the issue. The issue is how” said Sara Lance, needing something to DO rather than just talk in theoretical terms.

“Before we ask that, I’ve always wondered something. Why no guns?” asked Dinah Lance-Drake, and if they were being honest, Sara and Thea had wondered the same thing themselves.

“There is no great skill required to use a gun. Anyone can walk into a room of people and fire a weapon, and if they’re lucky, hit the person they’re aiming at. It takes true skill, and true effort, to master a bow” said Sandra Wu-San, punctuating her point by grabbing Thea Queen’s Heavensong bow and firing 5 consecutive arrows center-mass into the middle of one of the bullseyes that had been set up.

“As to your question of how, Ms. Lance, we train. We do not stop training until sensei Hayabusa tells us the League has arrived. I am sure he will offer our assistance, should they need it” states Richard Diaz calmly, his fear hidden behind knowing that, at this precise moment, it wouldn’t do any good.

So, their plans put together, the people who would call themselves the Defenders got to work. Because they knew, as much as they knew anything, a war was coming. And the chances of it being confined, or controlled, would be slimmer by the day.

**_Meanwhile, 3 months ago in Nanda Parbat……_ **

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The thing about being the 2nd in command to a guild of impossibly well-trained assassins who have existed since the 12th century is that you are expected to be as skilled at guiding your forces as you are with battling alongside them. So, whenever they weren’t being directly required to pick up a contract, most of the days of Nyssa Al-Ghul were split evenly between making sure her training was up to the standards of perfection that she kept for herself and reading classic books on leadership and military strategy.

And the one lesson that stuck, above all the others, was this: You can’t play favorites. To be a good leader, to be the spy and ninja of the level her skills required she be, you couldn’t have a favorite person in the field.

  
She really did try to make this work, genuinely. But, as she discovered, there was one person who she could not shake a deep and abiding love for. That person? Laurel Lance, Al-Kanari to the rest of the doe-eyed initiates who were both intimidated and awed by her presence.

First, and perhaps most important, it was her fighting skill. It seemed everything, from the classics like Western boxing to every branch of Asian martial arts that could possibly exist, was learned and then mastered. It had long been rumored that she could fight, and defeat, anyone that the League put in front of her. One day, while Nyssa and Slade watched, that hypothesis was put to the test. Every member of the League who had combat training faced Al-Kanari, including her boyfriend Al-Sahim. And, to a person, they all fell before Al-Kanari’s fists, feet, elbows, and screams. It was in that moment where Nyssa began to appreciate her as a sister, not just a lieutenant.

She supposed that was not normal. But then nothing about Nyssa Al-Ghul could ever be normal. She had been responsible for too much bloodshed, too much pain and death, to ever know what true normalcy felt like.

But Laurel? Laurel understood. She realized just how weird her life was, and never tried to change her. In fact, she believed that there was someone out there who would match Nyssa’s combative spirit and enjoy the quiet moments like Nyssa needed. That was the second thing. Laurel understood Nyssa, and the person she wanted to be.

All of that, that caring and gentleness, was something that she wanted to protect.

That was why, when she found out the depth of the Black Spider Clan’s evil, the usually calm Nyssa Al-Ghul felt anger coursing through every vein, every capillary. She didn’t much mind if Talia wanted a war with her, just her. That was coming and had been ever since Ra’s cast Talia out for one too many requests to not just kill, but **_MASSACRE_** , someone who had barely reached the standard for a “visit” from the League of Assassins.

But to do this? To sanction a political assassination on a police officer, someone sworn to do justice, merely to draw her out. That was beyond the pale. And then she discovered who the officer WAS. Her sister in all but blood had just lost her father, and she would be damned if she would not defend her.

Soon, she spoke to her father about this.

“Father, I have a request” said Nyssa carefully, still the meek little girl she had once been when faced with the titanic force of nature that was Ra’s Al-Ghul. At an imposing 6-7 inches, he loomed over every person he gazed upon and stood through the world like a colossus.

“Speak, my daughter. I have a sense I know your request, but I would like to hear it from you” Ra’s said carefully, his deep voice laced with menace and kindness in equal measure.

“We have found out the breadth and depth of the plots of the Black Spider Clan. For reasons we do not yet know, Talia has thrown her lot in with them. They seek to draw us to a war in the former home of Al-Sahim and Al-Kanari, and they have murdered Al-Kanari’s father, a police officer, to sweeten the trap. What do you suggest?”

Ra’s heard his daughter’s request, and to be honest, he was not wholly willing to grant it. After all, he knew about her abiding love for Al-Kanari and was concerned that the familial love they shared would blind her daughter to the work that must be done.

But, killing a police officer? That sin could not stand and knowing his disowned daughter had orchestrated the plot was…. personally offensive. As he thought of it further, this angered him as it angered his daughter.

“Unleash hell, my daughter” Ra’s said, a wolfish growl in his voice.

**_Meanwhile, on the Korean peninsula…._ **

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Talia Al Ghul was a secretive person. Whether this was down to nature or nurture no one was entirely sure. However, what those who knew of her existence were all willing to agree on was that she wasn’t exactly the warm and cuddly type. Rare were the times when she smiled, or any facial expression beyond a snarl. 

So, with that in mind, it wasn’t a surprise that she showered alone every morning. But there was another reason, a darker one, that she kept her morning preparations secret on a level that the most top-notch spy agencies would consider to be overkill.

Because once they saw the massive black spider tattoo that took up her back from shoulder to shoulder, they would have been able to

  
Talia Al Ghul, in secret, was leading a branch of the Black Spider Clan. And that branch, in addition to creating new ninja inculcated in its evil teachings, ended up helping to ensure that the plans of Genshin were never seen, never noticed.

After all, why would anyone WILLINGLY start a war with the League of Assassins if not to serve as a misdirection for something doing someone even worse?

**_Back in Starling City……_ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Ryu Hayabusa tells you he wants something done, you do it. Even when he’s the dictionary definition of kindness and caring, he still carries more than enough intimidation in his voice and bearing that the “suggestions” he makes don’t actually feel like requests.

So, when he told Sara Lance to meet the League’s plane at the private airfield on the outskirts of Starling City, she did it. And honestly, the Orange Dragon figured that was happening because she was expected to be providing intelligence of some sort. What she didn’t understand was why her. After all, how many people were there in this little confederation of defenders? Surely, one of them would have been better suited for the work of setting up this League of Assassins strike team with what they needed.

So, she sat in the empty hanger waiting for this apparently expansive private jet to appear, doing her homework for her personal training certification while she worked. Turns out that Sara had discovered that her new interests in physical fitness extended to helping other people get the best shape they possibly could.

And then, it happened. The jet pulled into the hangar, and out walked a football team’s worth of people. Armorers, cooks, medics. She ignored them. After all, fabric and meat are pretty much universal in the modern world.

And then, like an angel singing, she saw the woman she knew she would spend every day with. She was tall, vaguely Eurasian, and without doubt, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. But it wasn’t just the way she looked that made her beautiful. (Although, HOLY SHIT the way she looked.)

It was the dignity, and grace, she carried herself with. This was not a woman who slouched, or diminished herself in anyone else’s presence. Instead, she demanded your attention, and your respect.

In that moment, seeing her walk off of that jet, there was absolutely no one in the world for Sara other than this woman whose name she didn’t even know.

For Nyssa Al-Ghul’s part, she was utterly done for herself. She had always known she wasn’t the husband type, but had made herself ebleive that extended to all romantic relationships. And then, like a lightning bolt, there was this woman standing in front of her. She was tall, and so thoroughly beautiful, that it hurt to look at her for too long. Right then, before she could convince herself it was wrong, she decided that after this thing was over, she’d talk to Ra’s about staying here full-time so she could simply exist in her orbit.

Finally, they introduced themselves. “Hello, I am Nyssa Al-Ghul, heir to the Demon. And you are?” “I am Sara Marie Lance.”


	19. Doomsday Clock

Chapter 19: Doomsday Clock

**_Present Day…._ **

\----------------------------------------------------

After alien invasions, invasions by Nazis, and a crisis that saw their friends taken from them, you could not blame Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance if they wanted to just STOP being heroes. They had sacrificed more, and more deeply, than anyone would have ever been expected to. But they couldn’t.

It wasn’t, isn’t, just about the sacrifice. It can’t be. Because otherwise, why do you do any of it? Why does any of it matter if all you ever think about is what you lost?

Because the Green Arrow and the Black Canary gained a lot. And one of the first things they gained, through battle as it turned out, was a sister-in-law.

**_Five Years Ago, in Starling City…._ **

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

If not for the fact that they were on business, and both of them knew it, Nyssa Al Ghul and Sara Lance would have just been making goo-goo eyes at each other. They were that thoroughly besotted. But, whether by training or by circumstance, they both realized what they were here to do. This wasn’t a time to flirt, not even a little bit.

Their two teams both understood that a war was coming, and preparation for it was going to be vital. So, the Orange Dragon gave the woman known as Al-Shaytana the 25¢ brief on everything that she thought they would need to know. Simple stuff, really, like where the good supermarkets were and which doctors were more amenable to patching up fighting wounds without asking questions.

But soon, the woman feared the world over as the Demoness began asking other questions, more personal questions. Where were you trained? What fighting styles are your favorite? How did you get your nickname? Things like this.

(For the utterly curious, the answers were right here in Starling City, Mongolian Kung-Fu and Chinese san-shou, and because orange was her father’s favorite color and she wanted to honor him. The dragon part was because her trainer is the heir to the Dragon Lineage, and she wanted to honor **him**.)

Eventually, though, business returned to the forefront of their minds. And when it did, Nyssa remembered she had to let Al-Kanari reintegrate with her family. While she had always hoped, dreamed honestly, that Laurel would consider Nyssa her sister too, she understood what it would feel like to know your sister was alive and never see her.

“Al-Kanari? Could you join us please? And there is no need to be asked. I am assuming that our guest will be more than pleased to see you without one” smiled Nyssa, feeling a sudden warmth at the idea of making this woman she had barely met happy.

And so, Al-Kanari appeared. Right then, right at that EXACT moment, you could have told Sara Marie Lance that the world was going to end in the next 15 seconds and she would not have cared. Nothing that anyone would have told her in that moment would have mattered.

Her sister, the one who had always looked out for her, was back in her life. Even if she was different, harder and more self-assured than she had been, this was still her. It was STILL Laurel, and that was all she needed to see.

“Sara-Bear?” said Laurel, before launching herself at her sister for the hug she didn’t realize she wanted or needed until right now.

“It’s me, Laurel. I’m so glad to have you home, even if it’s under really weird circumstances” she said, and boy oh boy were these the definition of weird circumstances. Then, like a cold knife in the heart, she remembered. But before Sara could say anything, Nyssa did it for her.

“Laurel, I am sure this is already difficult for you. To come home after Starling City, and everyone you loved in your past life, thought you were dead must be hard enough to bear. But we are here on business, and we are sad to say that the business we are here also involves your family” said Nyssa with deep heartbreak in her voice. “Laurel, my sister, your father was assassinated by an enemy of the League, a man we understand you and Al-Sahim both know closely. His name was Carter Bowen, and we believe he did this on the instruction of my sister.”

But before Nyssa Al-Ghul says another word, a loud bellow almost like a strangled bull comes from the other side of the hanger and an unmasked Al-Sahim stomps across the room, his face contorted in absolute rage.

“CARTER BOWEN!” he yells, so consumed by his anger he doesn’t notice that Sara’s jaw is somewhere on the ground. “I knew it. All those years Mom bragged about how much smarter, and better, he was than me. And this WHOLE TIME, he was just as much of a pollutant to our city as anyone else was. But it wasn’t enough for him to deal drugs and send people through hell they don’t deserve to get put through. No, that wasn’t nearly enough. When he finally was about to pay for his crimes, he found someone darker and more depraved than him. And they decided to assassinate a pillar of justice, a man who knew more about right and wrong than he ever could. I’m going to make him pay. This League will make them regret the day they ever tried this.”

And then, Oliver Queen turned and noticed Sara Lance, his girlfriend’s little sister.

“Sara-Bear!” The anger he had held in him was gone. He embraced his family, the people who had been there for him when his mom was standoffish or cool to him. These, right here and right now, were the people he loved. But as he thought of it, he was forgetting someone. Where was Thea?

His sister, the one person he KNEW would be missing him. They’d see her. He would make sure of it. But for right now, he was home. And that was tremendous.

**_Meanwhile, across town….._ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thea Queen could not wait to see her brother. But she also knew why he was here, and what it meant for the city she had grown to love and sought to defend. All of her life, at least the parts she could remember, she had been the city’s princess. And while she was never going to give up her money, and the ability to get things done in her mission to defend Starling City, she understood that people would always have some concern about whether her motives were genuine.

All the soup kitchens and the job fairs seeded with Queen Consolidated money might not ever be enough to let people know she really did care. But if she fought for the city as hard with her Heavensong bow and the martial arts she had been taught as she did with her charm and political skills, people might finally listen when they were told the Queen family was really trying to make it a better place.

So, she trained. She drilled her body on every bit of the capoeira, judo, and taekwondo Richard Dragon and Sandra Wu-San taught her that she could remember. When she wasn’t doing that, she grabbed one of the Olympic bars and ran through a deadlift workout and did pullups. If this city really was about to go to hell in a handbasket, she figured it would be good to be ready.

But, and this was the one secret she kept from everyone, she wanted to save the city to make sure that someone she was having strong feelings about stayed alive. His name was Roy Harper, and he was a bartender at, of all places, the same club Tommy Merlyn worked at. She liked him.

He was funny, and most importantly, didn’t give a damn about her money and social status. She got the sense he liked her for her, and not what she could provide for him. Ever since she was old enough to know how different her life was, she had never enjoyed the realization that people WANTED things from her. Roy Harper didn’t. He just wanted her.

And, even as she was preparing for a war, she wanted to be worthy of that want. Maybe after this, she’d be able to tell him she was Artemis and prove to him just how worthy of it she was.

**_Meanwhile, in a run-down apartment in the Glades……_ **

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Genshin had long ago believed that the Americans enjoyed filth and degeneracy. Their popular culture, and the way they believed themselves to be the enforcers of a type of justice, only further cemented this opinion.

However he admitted, albeit after much prodding from his long-time lieutenant Kushimaro, that there were things about the American culture he could understand and respect. For example, one did not just wander around a city randomly attacking people you thought had wronged you. For a war like this, it had to be declared.

So, he did. He instructed one of his retinue to bring him a piece of paper, the Black Spider Clan seal, and a fountain pen. If he was going to break those monks in the League of Asssassins, he would do it on their terms. He would show them, using their tools and traditions, how much better he was than them.

But what to say? Who to send it to? These were problems he never contemplated having, he would admit to honestly.

Eventually, the thought came to him. He had long ago remembered what the League’s smoke system looked like. He made one of his own, and waited for the League to see it and know the battle was intended to begin.

War had been declared, and soon someone’s clan would fall.

**_Simultaneously in Central City….._ **

\----------------------------------------------------------

Eobard Thawne was not perfect. He could admit this to himself. And right now, as he re-checked his calculations for the particle accelerator that had been painstakingly created to bring the Flash to life and thus return him to his time, he realized the depth of his mistake. He had calculated the distance number for one zero too many. So, instead of merely creating meta-humans in Central City, he had created them…. WORLDWIDE?

Oh this simply would not do. But as he thought about it further, maybe it would. Maybe that damnable boy scout Barry Allen would become the Flash sooner with all these new threats, and he’d get to go home.

But before that, a quick check to make sure his mistake hadn’t done some permanent damage to the timeline. “Gideon” Eobard Thawne asked, sotto voce. “Is the timeline unchanged?”

“No, it has been changed. The Black Canary being on Lian Yu, and having developed her powers, means she will not die as she was fated to. She will lead the Justice League alongside Oliver Queen.”

FUCK. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.


	20. Battle of the Glades

Chapter 20: Battle of the Glades

**_Five Years Ago, at the border of the Glades and the rest of Starling City_ **

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Talia Al Ghul and a masked Malcolm Merlyn stood representing the Black Spider Clan, waiting for their opposite numbers in the League of Assassins.

And then, they appeared. Nyssa Al-Ghul and Slade Wilson, the two right-hands of the demon. But they were not alone. Nowhere near it. Because to their left and right stood people with just as big a gripe with the Black Spider Clan. On Nyssa’s side stood Al-Sahim and Al-Kanari, who knew in their bones that Talia had suborned the murder of a police officer and a member of their shared family. On Slade’s side stood Ryu Hayabusa, who had long ago sworn to bury every member of the Black Spider Clan. He, for his part, was here because he knew Genshin would be. Whatever the plot was, whatever the goal of this clan’s machinations, Genshin would want to oversee it personally. Tonight, if nothing else happened, Genshin would taste his blade.

“Well, I see you brought friends, sister. No matter. By the sunrise, you will join them in death” said Talia, a cruel sneer on her face as she pulled out a katana and nocked an arrow from the recurve bow that was on her back.

“I am SO disappointed in you, sister. To throw in with these cowards because you were sent away from the League, from your family” stated a heartbroken but still coolly dignified Nyssa, her hand on her scimitar as this was quickly turning into a standoff.

But before anything could get too far out of control, Nyssa smiled and turned to Al-Sahim and Al-Kanari and said one word that would change everything: “eabr ean nafsak.”

As only Talia spoke Arabic, Malcolm having spent all of his time learning Japanese under the watchful eye of one of the linguists of the Black Spider Clan, this then meant that when Al-Sahim and Al-Kanari revealed themselves as Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance, Malcolm Merlyn was STUNNED. Like, his jaw was open and his hand faltered on his bow.

In all of his plotting, and finely sculpted backup plans, this was the one contingency he could not have planned for. He believed that the Black Spider Clan had ensured the death of Robert Queen, who he was also utterly convinced was the only person who knew about the undertaking. In this moment, though, he realized his desire to plan for every contingency had missed a trick. Namely, that he didn’t request an amphibious cell of the Black Spider Clan to eliminate any stragglers from the boat capsizing.

But and he realized this too, he couldn’t have killed them. For all the work the Black Spider Clan had done to ensure that the tendrils of evil had wrapped around his heart, there was still a soft spot in his heart for Tommy and his friends. And if he was being honest, Oliver and Laurel surviving made him feel good. If they were standing against him, though, could this whole thing be wrong?

That, though, would be a question he’d ask later. Because Talia Al Ghul retreated, with the aid of a few well-timed smoke bombs, to the dilapidated apartment building in the Glades where the Black Spider Clan was making their stand.

The machines for the Undertaking were there. Genshin, Prometheus, Talia, and the Dark Archer were there. THIS was the battle of the Glades.

**_Meanwhile, at the Starling City Police Department…._ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some days, Lt. John Diggle wondered what his life had come to. Three tours of Afghanistan, and then a short run as a bodyguard to the rich and secretive. But then, his baby brother and partner Andy Diggle had been killed. Turned out, Andy had been blackmailing people, running complicated crime rings, and generally being nothing like the man John thought his brother was.

It turned out that someone had slipped him the files proving just how corrupted his brother had become. They even left them with names in the event he wanted to avenge his brother’s murder. What was it, he thought? Al-Shaytana and Al-Dhiyb? That seemed about right.

He still remembers that night, feeling some kind of peace and feeling like he wanted to pay this feeling forward. So, when he got back home, he decided to join the police. It was honest work, and simple.

But right now? None of this felt simple. He had vigilantes in his office.

He had heard about Orange Dragon, and Artemis. Lord knows he had run enough meetings where they talked about how some drug dealer had been taken off the street by one of them. But this? This felt different.

Maybe it was because they were looming over him like he used to loom over a perp in the interrogation room. Or maybe it was those 3 people in the back, silent like the grave and quite obviously just as deadly.

Whatever it was, it took him a minute to find his voice.

“Ladies? What can I help you with?” he said, with more of a confident timbre in his voice than he actually felt.

“There will be a war in the Glades tonight. We need you to ensure that no one is there but us, and the armies who will be fighting that war. No innocent civilians need be hurt” said the only woman standing in the back, and every vigilante in the room nodded their approval.

Pinching the bridge of his nose and drinking from a cup of mint tea, John Diggle answered.

“So, let me get this right. You want me to, on the say so of two vigilantes, clear out the Glades? Because there’s a war coming between two armies you don’t want to tell me anything about? Have I gotten everything?” he groans, utterly exasperated.

“Mr. Diggle, this is not a joke. This is not some dark cosmic test. We are serious. The man who killed Detective Quentin Lance is a member of this army, and they are here to finish the job he started. Do you want to watch your city burn because of pride, or do you want to help?” said that same woman, and just like that he knew what he would have to do.

He loved his hometown, in a way only his wife Lyla understood. More than that, just like to Lyla, he had sworn an oath to protect it. There really was never a question about what would come next.

“What do you need?”

**_Meanwhile, inside the McMillan Housing Projects…._ **

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Black Spider Clan knew what was coming. Anyone with a brain would have to. So, the ancient ninja order set up their defenses. They only wanted one battle.

Genshin, the Dark Archer, and Talia Al Ghul stood on the roof of the main building, sitting cross-legged in the center of the roof. Not that they needed to be, but it turned out that they were each HEAVILY armed. Genshin carried the Blade of the Archfiend, a long katana literally coursing with evil power in addition to his trademark hand and foot claws. Talia, and Malcolm, each had their own blades and the Black Spider Clan’s recurve longbows.

But they were the endgame, the peak of the mountain they were tasking the League of Assassins with climbing. At the entrance to the building, and for that matter the entire projects, lay small squadrons of ninja sworn to the Clan. If the League wanted their vengeance, they would be tasked with earning it.

And not for the first time since the big surprise he had been dealing with, Malcolm Merlyn was dealing with an emotion unfamiliar to him. Doubt.

Could this really have been the best way to deal with the grief of his wife’s death?

But doubt could wait. It would have to. This was not a thing that could be done with any emotion clouding one’s mind. Even if, just a little, Malcolm was questioning if it actually had to be done.

**_Meanwhile, at a League of Assassins safehouse…._ **

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, Slade Wilson thought, this was going poorly. It turned out that when the Black Spider Clan retreated to the McMillan houses, they made sure the best of the best of their teams were guarding the entrance to the one building. That was expected, honestly, and what he would have done if he were coordinating their battle plan.

But and he should have realized this, the other problem was what the rest of those teams were doing. Apparently, the heads of the Black Spider Clan had somehow divined where the main safehouse was headed and was sending every other team in town to raid it.

Honestly, if this was how it would end, he would be ok with that. At times like this, he remembered how he got here. It was the darkest of all possible coincidences, but it fit. He had taken a mission with ASIS, one last one before he was going to retire and be a family man. Sure, it was a slum on a small island in the Philippines. And sure, they were extracting quite a few Australian diplomats and high-level influencers who had somehow found themselves the hostages of a drug lord famous for buying off government officials.

And then, things went to shit before he could even blink. Billy Wintergreen, his usual mission partner, betrayed him. Apparently, their target had doubled his pay to betray everyone he had ever known. Meanwhile, the League of Assassins had descended at the same time into this situation and before too much longer the whole thing turned into a clusterfuck. He had been shot in the arm by Billy when he saw it. Admittedly, he thought he was dreaming it. This woman, tall and graceful in a way only runway models and royalty were graceful, carved through an entire room of drug dealers with the ease of someone ordering a takeaway. Then she got to Billy.

Slade had always known of the rumors of this League. They were like phantoms, and there were even some who began to wonder if they were actually real. If he survived this, though, he’d swear to their veracity. Because this woman, someone he had never met before, cut through an army of drug dealers and then vivisected his partner in a matter of minutes.

If he was going to die here, alone, seeing that would be a thrill he’d remember until he stopped breathing.

And then he heard this woman, this vision of vengeance and skill, scream. Apparently, what he hadn’t noticed was that she came with a partner. And that partner had a bullet in his stomach.

It was all a blur after that. He remembered being dragged to an SUV, and then to a plane. He remembers being indoctrinated into the League.

And tonight, he will take everything he learned and use it to do what the League should have always done: protect those whom the law cannot.

Almost on cue, then, the door opened and the help he had hoped was coming showed up. Sara Lance, Thea Queen, Richard Diaz, Sandra Wu-San, and John Diggle.

“Mr. Al-Dhiyb? What can we do to help?”

**_At the McMillan Projects…._ **

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

The League of Assassins, or at least the cream of their crop, stood at the entrance to the main building of the McMillan Projects. And, to a person, they shared two things in common: They were armed to the TEETH, and they were PISSED.

This was going to be a bloodbath. They all knew that. But it had to be done. Sometimes, every once in an impossibly long while, things like this required not the grace the League was known for, but violence and fury. The world would know of them tonight, but it could not be helped. The Black Spider Clan needed to know what happened when you tempted fate.

But before they entered through the front door, Ryu Hayabusa stopped them all and pulled a small orb from out of his pocket and said the only two words he would need to say.

“Stand Back.”

Putting the orb in the hole in the handle of his sword, Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance were stunned when the blade glowed pure white light and Nyssa Al-Ghul stood in the middle of the porch with her jaw open.

“The True Dragon Sword. I had only heard of it in rumors and fantasies. I never believed it was real” said a stunned Nyssa, her hand quickly going to her own sword as they all realized the depth and breadth of what they were about to find themselves involved in.

“What is this True Dragon Sword? And why are you shocked to see it?” said a worried and confused Oliver Queen as he reached for his sabre as Laurel Lance checked the balance on her trusty kanabo. While they both knew arrows were going to come out, those were finite resources. Swords and clubs were undoubtedly not.

“This blade was carved from a dragon’s fang, Mr. Queen. Inside this blade, the power of that dragon still exists. However, it remains dormant. On special occasions, when the world is at risk, I am allowed to awaken it. That is what the True Dragon Sword is, the sacred power of the dragons whose lineage I defend. I do not use this weapon cavalierly, but because I cannot allow the Black Spider Clan to destroy a city with millions of people in it, I will use it. To do what we have to do, to defeat the people we have to defeat, nothing can be left to chance” said a determined Ryu Hayabusa, and it turned out that they all believed that to be their mission statement.

And with that, Nyssa Al Ghul kicks open the door and they go to work. A small quartet of the world’s most trained assassins found themselves on the ground floor of a 15-floor dilapidated housing project with ninja popping out of corners, abandoned elevators, and empty houses. This…. This was going to be fun.

And so, they began. Nyssa Al Ghul cut through floors of ninja with her Chinese dao, as Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance buried their sword and kanabo in whoever staggered away. Meanwhile, Ryu Hayabusa dispatched his own enemies clear on the other side of the room. With every dead body, every ninja, their determination grew stronger. This thing had to be done, and they were going to do it. But when they got to the top floor, they didn’t find the people they were looking for.

In fact, they didn’t find anything but a note that simply said “Try Again”. And so it was for the other 2 buildings in the complex. They killed many ninjas, but at the top of each roof, all they saw was a note that said “Try Again”.

To say this was infuriating Nyssa Al Ghul was, perhaps, an understatement towards the idea of being infuriated. Seeing this, Laurel moved over to her sister in all but blood.

“Nyssa. I know you’re mad. I am too, but we need to think. And isn’t that what Talia would really want? For you to be so angry that you walk into a trap? If you ask me, those are the actions of someone who knows they can’t beat you. So, let’s go to that last building, because we know they’re there. And then, let’s kill ALL of them” said Laurel Lance, anger and bloodlust competing for equal space in her eyes. In that moment, the four were re-energized. The Black Spider Clan had no idea what they were in for.

**_Back at the League of Assassins Safehouse…._ **

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Slade Wilson took pride in possessing a lot of skills. But right now, as he felt the wave coming, the one he was happiest to have at his disposal was that he had a lot of experience with planning siege works of all different types. He knew the people he had here were skilled fighters, or veteran law enforcement officers, but he honestly was unsure as to how long they could hold the line. Honestly, though, they didn’t need a ton of time. All they needed was enough time for the League’s backup to arrive.

So, with nothing else to do, Al-Dhiyb gathered his troops and prepared them. He noticed that the smallest of them, a woman in a sea-foam colored hood and suit, had a quiver filled with arrows and a small bow. Immediately, he put her on sniper position and went to the armory to grab one of the quivers that had been left behind and gave her even more arrows. If she was going to rain death from above, he was going to make sure that she would get as much done as possible before she ran out of ammunition. With that handled, he then looked around at everyone else and he was shocked at who he saw there.

He had heard rumors of Lady Shiva and Richard “Dragon” Diaz, of course. You couldn’t travel in the circles that he did and have no knowledge of them. But to see them here, on the side of the League of Assassins, would always take a little bit of getting used to. But nonetheless, they were warriors and they knew what this was. So he put them at the other three doors to the safehouse. He gave them weapons too, even though it felt like overkill.

But to the last man, this police lieutenant John Diggle? He wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. That was, of course, until John Diggle revealed the sniper rifle he had taken. That would do.

**_At the McMillan Projects……._ **

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

And so, the League of Assassins, and their confederate Ryu Hayabusa, found themselves at the last building in the McMillan Projects. Their weapons were blood-stained and their lungs and legs were burning.

But they weren’t tired. They could afford to be tired later, after this was all done. Right now, a potent mixture of adrenaline and hatred was guiding them through this. They knew their enemies were here, and making them have to be chased like this was only confirming what they knew. These were rabid dogs, and they needed to be put down.

Standing in a perfect line they all looked at each other with the same thought on their minds.

IT ENDS. Come hell or high water, this whole thing finally ends.

And so Oliver Queen kicks in the door. Now is the time for the arrows, in addition to the blades. Before long, the League makes it up to the top floor and then the roof.

Waiting for them is their quarry. Talia Al-Ghul is there, smirking and confident. Genshin is there, massive and seemingly impenetrable. But Malcolm Merlyn, the Dark Archer, seems…. Unsure.

There were no words. There didn’t need to be.

And then the battle was joined. Ryu and Genshin battled with their blades faster than the eye could see, nothing but rapid-fire flashes of blessed holy katana against accursed evil one. But this was nothing new. Their two clans had battled, in different ways, since before anyone could remember. Hell, their swords were imbued with the energies of the forces that had sculpted their clans. But, and this they knew, the battle between them would end here on this rooftop. One would walk away, and the other would die. And so, after many more rapid-fire attacks and counters, Ryu Hayabusa saw his opening. First, he ducked under a wide swipe of Genshin’s Blade of the Archfiend and, just as quickly, buried his own True Dragon Sword right in the chest. At that, Genshin gasped, and dropped his cursed blade to the ground. Despite himself, despite the hatred that guided him here, Ryu waited alongside his long-time rival.

“Ryu Hayabusa? Are you still here?” begs Genshin, his voice already thickening from the blood in his lungs.

“Yes, Genshin, I am” said Ryu, ignoring the battles around him. He felt, more strongly than he had felt anything in a while, that doing this was what he needed to do. “I will not leave until you have said all you need to.”

“All grows dark and quiet, Ryu Hayabusa. With my last request, with my last words, take my cursed blade. Use it to fight for your lineage, as I used it to fight for mine.”

And then, Genshin extends his hand out and presents the Blade of the Archfiend to his enemy. Taking it, and the scabbard that comes with it, Ryu crouches down and closes the eyes of his enemy.

Standing up Ryu leans against the wall, as Talia Al-Ghul sees this and rolls over before delivering a series of stomps to the dead body of Genshin. “Such a failure. So pathetic.”


	21. Battle of the Glades Finale

Chapter 21: Battle Of The Glades Finale.

**_On The Roof Of The McMillan Projects……._ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Genshin, the head of the Black Spider Clan, had died in battle. No matter what any of the League of Assassins, or their partner Ryu Hayabusa, thought about the monstrous path that had led him here they all agreed on one thing: He had died with honor. He had fought with a zeal worthy of his station in life.

So to see Talia Al Ghul kicking his dead body as though he was nothing more than garbage filled all of them with resentment and hate, no one more than Nyssa Al-Ghul. She had known, always, how little her older sister had respected the concepts of honor that governed everything the League of Assassins did. But to know it, dispassionately, was tremendously different than to actually see her disgraceful actions in the flesh.

Although, Talia counted on this. She assumed that Nyssa would be driven to unrefined rage by the notion that she could dishonor a fallen comrade, and it would be that rage which would pry open gaps in her technique.

But what Talia didn’t count on was that Malcolm Merlyn, who had been wavering in his devotion, HATED seeing this. Genshin had always been a teacher to him, impossibly brutal but also fair. He made it a point of telling Malcolm that he would not ask him to do anything Genshin couldn’t do himself. The fact that Genshin could do just about anything was never the point.

So, in this moment, Malcolm realized his mistake. He thought the Undertaking was something honorable, something to be done when all manner of justice could not properly prosecute the crime that had been done to him. He had gone to the Black Spider Clan because he believed they understood, understood that there were things that couldn’t be explained by the binary worldview of good and evil. In this moment, he realized how wrong he had been.

Genshin had been a man of honor. A dark honor, and one that spoke more to him than what the League defined it as, but an honor nonetheless. This? This was beyond dishonorable. This was needlessly cruel.

So, without even knowing what he was really doing, Malcolm Merlyn took arms up against a fellow member of the Clan.

“Mr. Merlyn. Do you realize what you have done, the hell we will unleash on you and your son?” said a shocked Talia Al-Ghul, managing to keep her head despite the fact that she had two Olympic-level archers, and two world-class ninja, having their full attention on her.

“You are a woman of no honor. You, honestly, are an animal that needs to be put down.”

At that, the rest of them turned to see who said it. It wasn’t Oliver, or Laurel, or even Nyssa. It was an infuriated Ryu Hayabusa.

While, to Malcolm, Genshin was a teacher, he was something completely different to Ryu. Ever since Ryu was old enough to hold a wooden sword and practice with one, he had defined himself by the day when he would hold the Dragon Sword and battle against the forces of the Black Spider Clan. And in all of those dreams, all of those thoughts of what it would feel like, he had always knew who would be waiting for him. So to see the man he had spent his entire life training to beat treated as though he was nothing more than trash, it hurt.

So, with a fire in his heart that is melting his exhaustion to nothingness, Ryu Hayabusa stepped forward and drew the two blades he would now treasure with everything. And as the archers on the roof nocked their bows, and the swordsmen prepared to strike, Talia Al Ghul knew that her time was up. Short of an absolute miracle, she could not survive this.

So, she ran. After all, there were plans she had. Things that needed to be done. And right now, she thought with a dark glee, one of those things was to ensure that no one on that rooftop would ever trust Malcolm Merlyn ever again. So, as she threw a handful of smoke bombs to make sure no one would see her leave, she also grabbed the detonator for the earthquake devices and set them off as she left. If she was going to live to fight another day, it would be good to bleed as many allies of the League of Assassins dry as she possibly could. Malcolm Merlyn was a good place to start.

**_Meanwhile, at the Safehouse….._ **

\-------------------------------------------------------

Slade Wilson felt a rumbling and KNEW. They had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but it did. And just as fast, he knew what he had to do. He told everyone to leave, to run to safety and not look back for him.

The heroes, the defenders of this city and all the people who lived in it, did not deserve to have their last breaths be in a falling structure. They needed to continue fighting the good fight, to defend those who could not take up arms and do so for themselves. They needed to be heroes, as he had always wanted to be.

But now, as rock fell around him and the lights slowly flickered off, he felt at peace. He knew his wife and kids had passed, probably assassinated by Billy Wintergreen in a fit of rage. And he had lived his life ever since finding that out in hopes that he would become a good enough man that he would be reunited with them. And now, in what was guaranteed to be his last moments, he would be.

\------------------------------------------------------

At a STAR Labs facility in Starling City, a kind-eyed man in a red suit spirited as many people as he could find out of danger. His name was Barry Allen, and he vowed to help as many people as he could with the speed he had been given via a freak lightning storm in the middle of a particle accelerator. It would be the right thing to do, and besides, he liked helping.

In Gotham City, a man did katas in a darkened cave while he watched the news coverage of the Battle of the Glades. People in that city were scared. Someone needed to take their fear from them, and give it to people who DESERVED to feel it.

Meanwhile, two people in red and blue leotards helped keep crumbling buildings from falling. They couldn’t let people feel hopeless. It was their responsibility to help when people couldn’t help themselves. Not to rule over them.

All of these people, and more to come, would soon be united by a common cause, a common goal. And when they did, when that happened, the world would be changed for the better.

But that’s a story for another book.

Written in 2100 by **_Connor Lance-Queen and Mia Lance-Queen, the Green Arrow 2 and the Black Canary 2._**


End file.
